Mandokarla
by SirMandokarla
Summary: SWTOR: The Legacy. Mandokarla - in Mando'a, it means, "got the right stuff". The skill and the brains, the strength and the will. It means warrior, nomad, and family. For Aqura, it's just a nickname, but for the rest of the galaxy, it becomes a title.
1. Mandokarla

In a corner of a loud cantina, on a planet most people would think twice about visiting, sat an old man and a young woman.

The man was nondescript to anybody not looking closely. He was bald and old enough to be the woman's father, with a deceptively pleasant story of lines across his face.

His eyes, though. His eyes were those of a hunter, watching sudden movements and suspicious characters across the entire cantina. It said a lot that the woman was comfortable with her back to the din, which had been interrupted by a shooting out back not five minutes past.

As for the woman, it was for the best that she faced away from the rest of the cantina. From the back, she was relatively unimpressive, with a lithe, athletic figure and shoulder-length charcoal-black hair.

From the front, even the old man needed to kick himself once in a while to make sure he watched the cantina instead of her.

It wasn't her sharp nose or strong jawline that drew the attention. Her high cheekbones didn't help the problem, but they weren't distracting in and of themselves. When she reached up to brush away a single lock of hair, revealing the top half of a scar that ran across one of her eyes, that wasn't so unusual. It wasn't her smooth, pale skin or the earnest smile that played across her features that distracted the old man. He was more than experienced enough to keep his eyes off a pretty face.

It was her eyes. Old man Braden had never seen eyes like that. He was sure nobody had. They were blue, deeper than any sky or ocean and purer than any sapphire. They shone like the stars on a long journey home when she smiled, and she did that all the time.

It did an old man's ego good to know she was smiling because of him.

"So you'll do it?" Braden asked.

The woman's smile widened into a playful grin. "Of course I'll do it, for you, Braden."

Braden leaned over the table and pulled the woman into an abrupt, one-armed hug.

"Thanks, Aqura. You don't know what this means to me."

Aqura returned the hug with a laugh. It wasn't a pretty laugh, as such things went. It was loud, and rough, and came out in a bit of a bark. But it was genuine, and that made Braden smile, too.

"Sure I do, old man," Aqura said, pulling away with a flick of that one lock of hair. "You still working with Jory?"

"Sure am."

"Great. I've been meaning to have somebody look at my gear."

Braden raised an eyebrow. "What about your uncle Lekan?"

Aqura's smile dropped like a rock into a pond. "He… ran into a Jedi a while back. My aliit wouldn't tell me who. They know I'd go after them."

"Hey, hey, Mandokarla," Braden shushed, reaching a hand out to hold Aqura's fist. "We can figure that out together. I got a new kid, a few years back, her name's Mako. Best slicer you've ever met. After the Hunt, we can go looking. What do you say?"

Aqura nodded solemnly.

"You don't have to do this," Braden said. "If you want to go after this Jedi-"

Aqura shook her head, still staring at the table. "No. This is probably your last chance, like you said. My first Great Hunt. Whoever killed Lekan, they can wait. At least a little while."

The pair went silent for a moment, both remembering an old friend.

Then Aqura said, softly, so Braden could barely hear her over the cantina's noise. "I know how he died, you know. I always know. With Yoru and Denn and Shon and Krenn. Every… every time."

A tear slipped down her face, and she held Braden's hand hard enough to hurt his old fingers.

"It was that blaster of his. He loved that thing, but he relied on it too much. He used to say it could get him out of anything, it was just as good as a vod at his back. But he was wrong. If I'd been there, I could have..."

She trailed off, and her head fell to the table. Braden watched the cantina over her shoulder as her tears wet his hand.

"I know," he said, brushing the young woman's hair. "Nothing replaces family."

If the old man hadn't known what his young friend was going to say, he'd never have heard it as she spoke into the table.

"There's just so few left. Sherkan and Aayha and Sho'cye. Out of everybody who saved me. Out of my whole… I feel… shuk'la..."

Braden didn't know that one, and Aqura must have known that, because she said, "in pieces. Like every time one of us dies, I break a little inside."

"That's not really Mando philosophy," Braden chided her gently, glaring at a man who walked too close to their table.

"I know," Aqura said into his hand. "Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la."

"Not gone, just marching far away," Braden repeated back to her. That one he knew. That one he knew too well.

"It just doesn't feel that way."

"No," Braden agreed, staring down a twi'lek standing a little too close. He patted the Aqura's head softly. "Don't worry, Mandokarla, we're not going to get into trouble. You can do what you do best, and we'll be safe. We'll make sure you get home safe."

Aqura slowly lifted her head up, brushing away hair that had stuck to her wet face. "Maybe it'll be easier," she said, "not working with Mandos for a while."

Braden smiled slightly. Aqura didn't return it because she didn't feel it.

"What are you going to do about," Braden started to gesture vaguely, then his eyes widened and he yelled, "behind you!"

Aqura slipped down and to the side. She spun in time to catch an approaching man in the leg with her foot. He went down screaming, his knee bending in a way it shouldn't.

Braden drew his pistol and pushed the table over sideways, hoping to give himself some cover, hoping he hadn't left his young friend high and dry.

He needn't have worried.

Two others drew blasters on them, the twi'lek from earlier and a woman Braden hadn't noticed. Aqura was on them before they could fire. As the crowd started to scatter, she slammed an open palm into the twi'lek's solar plexus, then grabbed his arm and moved to put him in between herself and the other gunman. Before Braden could line up a shot that wouldn't kill somebody who probably didn't deserve it as much, Aqura lifted, shoved, and threw the man into his partner. They went down in a pile of limbs, and Aqura finally drew her pistol.

"Laandur," she spat, holding her blaster steady on the two tangled attackers.

Braden signaled to the man with the broken leg, making sure he didn't try anything. Again, he needn't have worried. The man was clutching his leg and crying.

"Get up," Aqura said, then repeated herself when the two froze. "Up!"

Slowly, avoiding sudden movements – and thus increasing Braden's estimation of their intelligence immensely – the two extricated themselves from each other and stood up. Aqura gestured over to their friend, and the moved over that way, slowly.

"Pick him up," Aqura said. After they complied, she gestured to the door, "out."

The three looked at her, dumbfounded.

Braden had to say, she looked pretty intimidating, even with puffy, bloodshot eyes. It was probably the steel in her stance, or the fire in her glare.

"OUT!" she roared, pointing towards the door. "Come back when you're not walking blind into your own deaths!"

Whichever one of the three moved first, it prompted all of them, and the twi'lek and woman carried their friend out of the cantina.

Aqura turned on the rest of the crowd, or the remains of it. The few left had hidden behind the bar or cowered in the corners. It was as if they hadn't realized nobody had fired a shot in the exchange.

"Old man," Aqura called, "any more?"

"No, we're clear."

Aqura holstered her blaster and walked back to Braden, and they both pushed the table right way up again. Then Aqura slid back into her chair and sighed.

Braden watched her silently.

The way she'd phrased her ultimatum to those hoods was telling.

He wondered what would happen if she got to close to one of the team. Mako was always asking to go out hunting with them. If the two grew close, and Aqura overruled Braden and let Mako come out with her, if Mako got herself killed out there…

He'd just have to make sure. Aqura was a strong woman, in everything but this.

"They attacked me out of my armour," Aqura grumbled.

Braden nodded. "Smart. I doubt any of them could've afforded a weapon that could get through beskar'gam."

Aqura shook her head. "That's not my point. I took those utreekove down in _seconds_ without my armour. Not only that, but they attacked with you right here!"

Braden smiled. "I'm just an old man, kid. And most people don't expect an unarmoured Mandalorian to be an expert martial artist. Especially not one so young."

Aqura snorted in derision.

"So," Braden prompted, gesturing again at his own face, "about..."

Aqura nodded, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'll get Aayha to design me a new set, it'll cover my face. I'm thinking gold."

"And..."

Aqura made face. "I don't want to change my name."

Braden stared at her meaningfully.

"You managed just fine," Aqura protested.

"No, I didn't," Braden said. "I ended up a washed-up old man because nobody wants to hire the man who killed the Jedi Grandmaster and bombed the Jedi Temple."

"It was an accident!"

"So was killing Kym. And I didn't have anything to do with the bomb."

"But it's lying!"

That actually managed to stump Braden. As much as he loved the little Mandokarla, he-

Wait…

"Maybe not," Braden said slowly.

"How is changing my name not lying?" Aqura asked sarcastically.

"When it's a name you already use," Braden said, a smile spreading across his face.

Aqura glared at him. Then, slowly, her eyes widened, and she even smiled, just a bit.

Braden stood up, rounded the table, and gave her a hug.

"Now, get going," he said. "We've both got a lot of work to do before the Great Hunt."

"Only because my aliit wants me to try this alone," Aqura muttered, a bit petulantly. "I hate hutts."

Pulling back, Braden ran a hand through the young woman's hair. In spite of what had happened, her eyes still sparkled like distant stars.

"See you on Hutta," he said as he walked away, "Mandokarla."


	2. Nal Hutta 1

It was another planet anyone with common sense would avoid. Well, common sense or less armour than a freighter. Currently, Aqura fell into neither category. She was fully equipped with a golden suit of beskar – Mandalorian iron – and a sense of adventure.

Aqura ran a hand appreciatively along the white highlights on one of her bracers. Even days after getting it, she'd probably still be sketching the lines of white across her chestplate and helmet. Sure, it was unprofessional, but it just looked so good! At least she could pass off tracing the bracers as double-checking her flamethrower or grappling line.

Her smile hid behind a fully sealed helmet as she watched the various low-lifes of the Huttese cantina give her – or, her armour – a wide berth.

Normally, walking through a cantina on Hutta with anything worth even a fraction as much would be an invitation for disaster. Beskar'gam tended to have the opposite effect. Men who would trade their own mothers for a quick cred avoided the T-slit visor's gaze, and hardened mercenaries kept a respectful distance.

Such was the power of the Mandalorian reputation. It was easy to say one was Mandalorian, completely different when the beskar'gam told everyone who could see. Aayha had done Aqura more of a favour designing it than the young hunter had realized. Not that she'd ever take a gift from her beloved cousin for granted.

Aqura stopped for a moment when she got to the back of the cantina. There were a series of rooms, all off a side hallway. Braden had definitely said to meet in one of them. She could check each one, but she'd probably scare anyone she looked in on. Hutta wasn't known for hosting people who were happy to see bounty hunters of any variety.

Something told Aqura the rancid smell was coming from the nearer room on her right. Maybe it was the extra yellowing in the wall near that door. As for the closest one on the left, the door was closed. Not something Braden would bother with; he and Jory were always armed. There just wasn't any point letting some poor fool walk into a room full of bounty hunters without warning.

Ah, there. The one on the far right. Less noise coming from it than the far left – which she could hear over the cantina just behind her – and the floor looked like it had been swept, which could only mean computers.

The Mandalorian armour clanked louder than Aqura liked as she walked up to the room.. She'd never worn full beskar'gam before, just beskar pieces here and there. She'd have to get used to walking quietly with so much weight.

Was it possible to make a jetpack fire quietly and lightly enough to quiet armoured footsteps? Uncle Lekan would have known. Until she found somebody as crazy and clever as him, she'd just have to practice and deal with the occasional clanking joint.

Inside, Braden was talking with a teenage girl with a face Aqura couldn't help but think of as adorable. It was a little round, with a button nose. The implant at her temple might have looked ready to intrude on her bright, energetic eyes, but that didn't stop Aqura wanting to take her home and keep her forever.

Somehow, even though Jory was clearly sitting at a table facing the door, it was the round-faced girl that noticed the incoming Mandalorian first. Braden followed her eyes and broke out into a grin.

"The main attraction has arrived," Braden laughed, stepping in to hug Aqura. It didn't feel like much with the armour on, but it was the thought that counted. "Mako," Braden told her as he pulled away, "this is the girl we're pinning all our hopes on. Meet Mandokarla."

The green man at the corner table, a Nikto who was all scales and horns, shot up from his seat. "Braden," he said in Huttese, "you didn't tell me we were bringing in Aqura!"

"Uh..." Mako looked between the three of them in confusion. "Who? Is that bad thing?"

Jory laughed. "No way," he cried, stepping over the table to grasp Aqura's forearm and shake her hand. "Ha! I can already see those victory credits!"

"That means a lot, coming from you," Aqura grinned. "Now, if somebody could close the door? I'd like a real introduction."

Braden rolled his eyes and grumbled, but he went to the door and closed it. Then he turned around and leaned on it, arms crossed.

Aqura reached up, unclasped her helmet and rolled down the armour mesh on her neck, then finally lifted off the helmet, shaking out her hair to get it back to some semblance of normalcy.

"Woah."

Aqura glanced up to see Mako holding a hand up to her own hair, which swept back like smooth ebony from her face, then ended in dreadlocks at the back of her head.

Then Aqura lifted her head to get a good look at the girl without the helmet in the way.

Mako opened her mouth as if she were about to say something else, but sort of froze with her mouth partway open.

Aqura laughed and swept in to hug the girl. Lightly, because beskar wasn't exactly known for its softness. "Guess you've never met a Mando before, hey, Mako?"

Braden muttered something about being pretty sure that wasn't the problem, but Aqura ignored it.

"I've heard you're one of the best slicers in Hutt space." Aqura pulled back, but left a hand on Mako's shoulder. The girl seemed to be getting her bearings back, so that was nice. "That means we've got intel, maintenance, guns, and..." she trailed off after pointing to Mako, Jory, and herself, looking at Braden. "What exactly do you do, again?"

Braden snorted. "I'm the one who's got a way for you to get into the Great Hunt in the first place, cyar'ika. Respect the old man."

"Hold on." Mako held up her hands, shaking her head incredulously. "I'm seriously confused. Is your name Sharka, Ah-KOO-ruh, or Man-"

"It's pronounced shar-EE-kah," Aqura corrected her, "it means sweetheart. And my name's Aq-"

"It's Mandokarla, for the purposes of the Hunt," Braden interrupted.

"But that's a nickname," Jory pointed out. "What are we using that for?"

Aqura caved under Braden's glare, but rolled her eyes and sighed, "alright, Mandokarla. Even among friends, apparently. Anyway, I'm in a bit of trouble, Jory, so we decided a few things shouldn't be advertised."

She wrapped her knuckles lightly on the helmet that had been covering her face since she got to Hutta… and would probably be doing so for her entire time on the planet, apparently.

"And the other thing," Mako interrupted. "Aren't you a Mandalorian? Shouldn't getting into the Great Hunt be no big deal for you? I mean, it's Mandalore who hosts the whole thing, isn't it?"

Aqura shrugged and gave Mako an easy smile. "Yeah, but what's the fun in that?"

"There's enough trouble that Mandokarla's not associating with her clan for a bit," Braden grumbled from the doorway, "until it blows over. So no slip-ups on the name. Got it?"

Aqura narrowed her eyes. "I'm also doing it the hard way to prove myself to the clan, and," she put emphasis on the last word, glaring at the old hunter, "as a favour to Braden."

"Hey, hey," Jory cut in, waving his hands between the two. "Braden's just trying to take care of you, kid. We've been on the run once or twice. Take some advice from the pros."

"Speaking of which," Braden said, pushing off the door, "Mako, you got that network set up yet?"

Mako's eyes went wide and she gasped, "oh, right." She made a surprisingly elegant twirl towards the console she'd been working on and, ten seconds later, said, "yeah, everything's ready, Braden."

"Good," Braden grunted. "Mandokarla, bucket on. We're sending you out asap. Mako, find us the nastiest, most brutal, untouchable scum you can."

"Proving my worth?" Aqura grinned, sliding her helmet back on.

"Yeah." Braden nodded. "You're not getting in to see Nem'ro the Hutt without a rep, which means no chance of a sponsorship to the Hunt without a bounty or two here. And quit smiling in there, we can hear it."

"Bully." Aqura grinned just to spite him.

"We're not getting Mandokarla to quit smiling," Jory shrugged. "But I bet we can find a voice modulator for her."

Aqura threw her hands up in the air. They were both going to insist on this? She'd done just fine before now, without the helmet and everything! "Ugh, fine!" She'd thought this was going to be a minor thing, basically a formality to keep some of the small fry off her. All of a sudden Braden wanted her name changed permanently, her face covered, her voice disguised… what was the point of winning the Great Hunt if nobody even knew who she was?

Well, besides it being a lot of fun.

"Aha! Take a look at this." Mako beckoned the group over to the computer. She'd drawn up a profile on the monitor and started pointing to bullets on a rap sheet. "Vexx, Corellian. Champion quick-draw artist, wanted for robbing fifteen Imperial pay stations."

Braden raised an eyebrow.

"Of all places to get credits, why would-" Jory cut himself off as the door to their room opened.

"Send the details to my HUD," Aqura called back as she headed out the door. "I'll be back in a few!"

Braden grumbled to himself as Mako frantically started looking for Aqura's helmet com frequency.

Aqura just laughed to herself and walked out of the cantina. A quick-draw artist. That had to be at least some challenge!

* * *

Aqura returned to the cantina late that day, laughing. Vexx had led her a merry enough chase, but hadn't been half the threat he'd been cracked up to be.

At least he'd gotten off one good joke before she'd frozen him and carted him off to one of Nem'ro's enforcers.

"Hey, guys," she called as she walked down the side hallway, "you wouldn't believe what Vexx came out with before-"

Her voice died in her throat.

Sharp, acrid smell. Pale, slack-jawed faces. A single scorch mark on the wall beside the door, still feebly smoking.

Braden and Jory were on the ground, dead. Braden had his blaster drawn. Jory's pistol was still on the table.

Aqura crashed into the room, tearing off her glove to check for pulses she already knew weren't there. Still, she put her hand to each of their necks. Then, with a roar, she stood and flipped the table Jory had been sitting at just that morning.

Movement, behind her. Instinct took over. She didn't even turn, just slammed her armoured elbow back into her attacker's sternum. Then she spun, sweeping the target off its feet. She had her arm around its throat and her unarmoured hand ready to strike before she recognized the round face and fearful, tear-filled eyes of the last of the team.

Mako choked on an aborted breath and reached up a hand to push uselessly at Aqura's arm. She needn't have bothered. Aqura pulled back to let her breathe and then, as soon as Mako sat up, grabbed her in a powerful hug.

"Oh, di'kut, don't sneak up on a Mandalorian!" Aqura blinked back tears, watching the door in case whoever had done this came back. She stood up, lifting the girl with her, and put herself between the unarmoured slicer and the door. Then she pulled back, patting the girl down. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you? Me'vaar ti gar? Osik, Braden ven'kyr'amur ni meh gar-"

"Stop," Mako wheezed, "stop!"

Aqura cut off, glancing at the door to be sure Mako hadn't spotted someone. Then she drew her blaster pistol. She hadn't even realized it was still in its holster. Bad instincts, especially with her flamethrower in the gauntlet on the floor.

"I can't understand a word you're saying," Mako managed. She tried to keep talking, but she choked again, this time on tears, and bent double with her fists balled up in her shirt. Aqura tried not to watch. Whoever had done this might be back, and she was the only hope Mako had.

So she turned away from Mako and the bodies and watched the door. Not that she could breath any better than the girl right now.

She'd gone on her first strill hunt with Braden. With him and Uncle Lekan and Yoru… and they were all dead. Everybody who'd seen her miss the shot of a lifetime on one of the gliding beasts because she thought it might be going home to its children. Uncle Lekan had laughed at her and Yoru shot the strill down herself, but Braden took her aside that night and told her it was alright to care about her enemies, as long as she always knew when she needed to pull the trigger.

And maybe she'd never been as close to Jory, but there'd been a few nights she'd been bored to sleep by him talking with Lekan or her cousin Aayha about weapon designs or with Sho'cye about philosophy.

She'd have to tell them Jory and Braden were dead. She'd have to explain how it'd happened on her watch…

After. After she'd killed the ones responsible, she'd tell them.

"Mandokarla," Mako said softly.

Aqura shut her eyes tight, then let out a deep breath and opened them again. "Yes, Mako?"

"I can find out who did this."

Watch the door, watch the door, watch the door-

Aqura spun around to face Mako. "How?"

Mako gestured towards the direction of the main cantina. "Places like this always have a few cameras. Usually to blackmail anyone stupid enough to get on the bad side of a hutt. I only left a couple hours ago. That narrows down the time a lot."

"It was more recent than that." Aqura pointed to the scorch mark by the door, which was still smoking if she squinted at it hard enough. "That was still smoking when I walked in here."

Mako nodded and turned towards the computer terminal. "I'll only need a few minutes to go through the last bit of footage – less time to get into the cantina's cameras. Just watch the door, alright? I don't want whoever did this shooting us in the back."

Aqura could only nod and turn away. For approximately ten seconds, she stood facing the door, listening to the clacking of keys on the computer console.

Then, in as reasonable a voice as she could manage, she asked, "do you think you could talk me through what you're doing?"

"Yeah, I guess," Mako replied. "I've got the cameras… just sifting through the footage. Not many people come back through here… okay, I think I've got whoever they were. Two men in armour."

"Who?"

"I don't know!"

Aqura winced slightly. She hadn't meant to be so impatient.

Mako sighed. "Sorry, I just..."

"I know," Aqura said. The bodies were still lying behind the both of them. Maybe Mako was lucky, and she'd never had family die before. Maybe she had, and still took it hard. To Aqura, this sort of thing was far too familiar. Another two names on her list of the dead, another two – if Mako had found them – on her list to kill. "We'll find them. I'll kill them for you. They won't escape us."

Mako didn't reply. She just kept working. Every few seconds, she'd give another status update. She was moving through files and logs at a pace Aqura could barely follow, and that was just the overview.

It turned out Braden was as good at picking young geniuses as he'd once been at hunting.

There were a few minutes when Mako didn't find anything, and all Aqura did was put her gauntlet back on. It wasn't surprising, to take this long to find something. Not on a planet like Hutta. Most transactions were under the table, and those that weren't could be "forgotten" for a few extra credits.

"Damn it!"

Aqura's grip tightened on her gun for a moment, then she loosened it. A tight grip made the gun shake. Amateur sort of mistake. "What is it, Mako?" she asked softly.

"I can't find anything!" Mako's hand slammed loudly into the computer terminal. "I hate this planet, I hate the hutts! I hate these outdated, useless networks! Why-"

"How long until they left?" Aqura asked.

"Why does it matter?!" Mako yelled.

Aqura bit down on her anger. She wasn't angry at Mako, she was angry at the two men who'd killed her friends. And, maybe, just a little angry at Braden and Jory…

Everybody died eventually. But when it happened in a fight, it was always because of a mistake.

Braden and Jory had made a mistake they wouldn't have made if Aqura had been there.

"Because," Aqura bit out, "I want to know whether they had an argument or walked in and shot Jory and Braden right off."

Mako gave a soft, "oh," and five seconds later, said, "two minutes, twelve seconds between entering and leaving."

"A short conversation, then." Aqura said. That was a start, but what did it mean? No conversation was a hit, a long conversation was an argument that got out of hand, but what did it mean if they'd basically exchanged pleasantries and then the newcomers had killed Braden and Jory?

"They gloated," Mako whispered darkly.

"I- what?"

"They gloated," Mako repeated. "Just like every two-cred gang leader on Nar Shadaa. They got the drop on the old men, and they gloated about it."

Aqura nodded. It made sense. That was why the single blaster bolt. Braden must have tried to draw his gun at the last second, knowing he wouldn't stand a chance.

"A criminal, then?" Aqura threw the idea out there. She was no detective. A bit of experience wasn't helping anyone right now. Mako was doing all the real work.

"That doesn't make sense. Unless..." The computer keys clacked for another few seconds.

Another idea occurred to Aqura. "Do you think a hutt might have sent somebody after Braden?"

That would beg the question of who to kill. The hutt, the killers, or all three?

All three. The hutt, for sending the killers, and the gunmen, for doing the killing.

"No," Mako answered. "Braden was too smart to get on the wrong side of a hutt. At least, any on this planet. I just can't think of why... damn it! There's nothing on Nem'ro's cameras. These two should have visited his palace. Everything goes through Nem'ro around here!"

"Check the spaceport," Aqura suggested.

"Why?"

"Because maybe they're not trying for a getaway, but if they are, then we want to catch them before they escape. And if they just pulled a hit in a Hutt's territory without telling him, they won't want to stay long."

It was another twenty seconds before Mako turned and ran for the door with an inarticulate cry.

Aqura grabbed her, clamping down hard on her shoulder, so hard that the girl's feet flew out from under her. The hunter had to take her weight and put her back down, feet first.

"Bomb?" Aqura asked.

"They're at the spaceport! We have to get there!" Mako looked frantic.

"I have to get there," Aqura corrected her, pushing past her. "You're staying here and locking the door."

"But-"

"I'll move faster without you," Aqura interrupted. It wasn't even half the reason she was leaving the girl behind, but it was the fastest thing Aqura could think of to convince her. "Unless you have hydraulics in your legs you haven't mentioned."

Mako went silent, though the look on her face said exactly how much she liked the idea of staying back.

"Good," Aqura said, clicking a few buttons on her bracer and unclasping a latch. She took hold of a small block and pulled it from the bracer, then handed it to Mako. "Take this," she said. "If anybody tries anything, point this end at them and pull this lever back."

Then she was out the door before Mako could finish the question, "is this a flamethr-?"

Men and women dove for cover as the golden Mandalorian crashed through the cantina. Nothing got in the way of a Mandalorian on the warpath. Aqura was out of the building and in the streets in seconds.

The spaceport was a few blocks away. Through a gang warzone, but that was barely a detail. She put a blaster bolt through a gamorrean pig-man who looked at her the wrong way and activated an override in her suit's hydraulics.

Hopefully Mako was better at suit maintenance than she was. This was going to break a few things.

She crashed through the streets, nearly running into a woman who was too slow to dodge the charging bounty hunter. Aqura barely kept her footing when she landed after the quick jetpack boost that kept her from killing the woman.

At the spaceport, there was much of the same, people dodging left and right to keep out of the way of charging beskar'gam.

"Hangar four," Mako's voice told her. "I've got their manifest. Tarro Blood and Sedyn Kyne."

"Blood?" Aqura recognized the name. Old stories her aunts and uncles used to tell about the last Great Hunt often featured the man. "He's Mandalorian. Run out of the last Hunt by the clans for being an arrogant, honourless upstart."

She grabbed a doorframe, spun, and practically flew into the hangar.

Too late. The ship was already taking off!

"Sabotage," Mako said. "That's what this was! He killed Jory and Braden to keep us out of the Hunt!"

Aqura ignored the girl. There were more important things right now, like figuring out how to stop that ship. She took stock of her options. Blaster, vibroblade, power armour. Nothing that could take out a freighter or get her inside. Around her lay the detritus of a poorly-maintained spaceport. Fuel lines, junk metal, bits of plasteel and who-knew-what from travelers who knew a little extra mess would go unnoticed.

There, at the end of the fuel line, adjacent to the main tank.

The blade sprang from Aqura's bracer, out over the back of her fist. She brought it down once, twice, three times, cutting through fuel lines and one old, rusted bolt.

The hydraulics in her armour strained, but she managed to lift the secondary fuel tank. It was small, about the size of her own armoured torso. Still very heavy.

As the ship's engines roared, so did she, straining to turn and throw the tank up at the fleeing murderers.

The tank sailed up into the air. Not high enough. Even as her blaster came up and she fired on the tank, she knew it wouldn't work. The first shot missed, and the second didn't ignite the tank, but the third one-

The sky lit up blindingly bright, and the sound hit her a half a second before the force did. She was thrown against the side of the hangar with a clang that would have been deafening, if her ears hadn't already been ringing from the explosion.

Up above, a man peered out of the cockpit of the ship. He was armoured, with brown hair and, she imagined, a smug expression on his face. His ship's newly-blackened hull might have surprised him, but he turned away from her. The ship turned as well. Then it was gone, accelerating into space, where Aqura couldn't follow.

She'd failed. Jory's killer had escaped. Braden was going to rot unavenged. Her family was going to find out she'd let a friend die on her watch.

"When you catch him, tell him-"

"He's gone, Mako," Aqura whispered into her comm. She couldn't even muster the energy to stand. She just sat there, in the middle of the filthy spaceport, leaning against the grimy wall she'd been slammed into by her own stupid, unsuccessful attack.

"G-gone? What do you mean, gone?"

There was a hint of hope in Mako's voice, just a small part of her that must have wondered if Aqura was just saying that Blood was dead. It hurt to dash that hope, almost as much as everything else hurt. Aqura's body, her eyes and ears, her pride. Idly, she activated her armour's kolto healing unit. Just a small injection, something to keep the bruises at a minimum.

"He escaped," she clarified quietly. "He was already on the ship when I got here."

"B-but..." Mako trailed off for a minute. Then, just as Aqura was considering standing up, she spoke again. "I've got it all here. Blood's entry into the Great Hunt, then a bunch of independent entrants dropping out. There's a ton of articles here, obituaries and news articles about murders and assassinations, all people helping the entrants."

"Yeah," Aqura laughed bitterly, "because the rules say he can't kill rival entrants."

"And their support crews are fair game," Mako agreed. "But that's not the point. What I'm saying is, this proves he's in the Great Hunt."

Like a light going on, Aqura caught on. "So all we have to do is get into the Hunt, and we can track him down."

There was another option. All she had to do was tell Mako about it. Tarro Blood wasn't popular amongst the Mandalorians, but they tolerated him. They wouldn't, if Aqura told her family about the attack. Aqura could argue that it was an attack on a fellow Mandalorian. There'd be an on-sight kill bounty on Tarro before the day was out.

All Aqura had to do was accept she'd failed, tell her family, and give up the chance to get revenge for a man who'd helped raise her.

Aqura stood up gingerly, taking it easy on her suit's hydraulics and her own battered body.

"Put in the call to Nem'ro," Aqura told Mako. "Tell him Aq- Tell him Mandokarla's coming to talk about that Great Hunt sponsorship."

Blood was going to have a very fitting name when she caught up with him.


	3. Nal Hutta 2

Aqura didn't stumble back into the room, exactly, but she didn't stride in the way she'd done earlier that day. Her trip through the streets wasn't the same as her previous ones, either. Before, she'd been a proud Mandalorian in pristine gold and white beskar'gam. Now those colours were marred by the streaks and blotches of smokey-black chemical burns. That could probably still be intimidating, but it wasn't something the hunter could pull off just yet.

Mako was fumbling Jory's body into a tarp when Aqura arrived. He was clearly too heavy for her to move easily, and her fingers slipped on the fabric, sending her reeling backwards. Rather than fall backwards, she overcompensated and fell forwards, slamming down onto her knees.

"Agh! Dammit!" Her hands came up and stopped a few centimeters from slamming back down on Jory's body. She knelt there for a second, frozen and trembling, then turned her head to look at Aqura.

The young hacker swallowed, wiped her eyes, and stood up, jaw clenched tight. "Good," she said, "you're back. I've got Nem'ro's attention and an interview all lined up, just like we planned before..." Her eyes flickered down to the body she'd already managed to hide in a makeshift funeral shroud. "Before," she finished.

Aqura's charred helmet hid her face. The girl couldn't see her expression flit from anger to sympathy to grief and back again, even if she might have noticed Aqura's hands tensing halfway into fists every few seconds.

All Mako got out of her armoured teammate was a nod and, "as soon as I help you with Braden and Jory, I'll-"

"No." Mako shook her head once, as if swatting the idea out of the air. "Nem'ro is expecting you as soon as possible. You don't have time to waste."

"Osik, girl," Aqura whispered inaudibly, then, "alright. Keep the flamer fuel. It's how Jory would have wanted it and I know Braden wouldn't want to be buried on a planet like this."

Mako nodded, then flinched backwards as the Mandalorian stepped towards her. Aqura stopped, and Mako relaxed again. Slightly.

Aqura raised a hand slowly, placatingly. She took another two steps closer. Slow ones, just off to the side of Mako, and knelt. Reaching down, she took hold of Braden's tarp and pulled it open.

"What are you doing!?"

"Mando tradition," Aqura explained, popping the vibroblade from her wrist and reaching down. She selected a suitable part, then stabbed, cut, twisted, then cut again. She took her prize and pocketed it just as deftly, then took a step towards Jory and did the same. It was harder with the nikto, but she made do.

Mako looked on first in confusion, then shock, and then in confusion again. It wasn't until Aqura finally stood up that she got a good look at the two bodies and realized what Aqura had meant.

"You took parts of their armour," she realized. She tried to catch Aqura's visored gaze. "Why?"

Aqura's fingers reached into the pouch on her belt, sifting through the shards there, trying to memorize the new ones as best she could. "Like I said. Tradition. With what Mandos do, sometimes… a lot of the time… there isn't enough left to take home. Even for the ones who have a home."

Mako's eyes flickered, and then she turned and picked something up off the room's lonely table, handing it to Aqura. It was a small chip, long and thin and very flat.

"Pull it apart," Mako prompted. "It's actually two strips."

Aqura did, but it didn't explain anything about the devices. Her confusion must have been obvious, because Mako chose to explain.

"It's the vox scrambler," she said. Tilting her chin back, she drew a finger along each side of her jawbone. "They'll stick to the inside of your helmet and override any voice patterns that pass through. You should put them on before you go see Nem'ro."

Looked at the two strips, then at Mako, and back again. Then at Braden's body. Finally, she reached up to undo the clasps on her helmet.

"The door!" Mako hissed, eyes wide, and she sprang past Aqura to palm the control panel. The door slid shut before Aqura got her helmet off. Mako watcher with an incredulous glare as the armoured woman shook out her hair. "What's the point of trying to hide your identity if you're going to show it off to anybody walking by?"

Aqura started to snap a reply, and then went silent, sighed, and nodded.

For Braden, she'd take this seriously. It didn't have to make perfect sense.

The scramblers were simple stuff, application-wise. She just turned her helmet upside down, took a strip in one hand, and placed it just above the bottom edge of the helmet, a little back from the chin. Then she did the same with the other one, on the other side. Right where Mako had shown her.

"Mako," she asked, "when did you have time to g-"

Her voice died in her throat. She knew exactly when Mako must have gotten the scrambler.

And she also knew why Mako hadn't been around when Braden and Jory were killed.

So she went silent, finished making sure the strips were in place, and got her helmet back on.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice came out in a gravelly monotone that managed to sound menacing in spite of what she was saying.

Mako nodded. "You should go. We need to secure our place in the Hunt as quick as possible. If Nem'ro gives his sponsorship to someone else..."

"Then I won't be part of the Hunt. And then I will be." Aqura opened the door and stepped through with one parting quip. "After all, it's just members of the Hunt who can't kill competitors."

And dead people didn't hold onto sponsorship tokens very tightly.

Nal Hutta meant "Glorious Jewel" in Huttese. The planet was damp, dreary, with sickly green and brown in the sky and on the ground and in the "water". There was rot in any plant dead for longer than a few hours, and the buildings that were made of alloys and stone designed to survive those conditions still absorbed the stink and eventually crumbled under the chemical assault.

Hutts, naturally, were exactly the sort of species you'd expect to call a planet like that, "Glorious Jewel". Brown and sometimes grey or green, slimy with mucous and made of rolls of fat. Just made of them. It was rolls of fat, two eyes and a mouth on one end with a nose somewhere hidden between, and two stubby arms. That was it. How a species like that had once ruled an empire was beyond Aqura.

The Sith made sense. They could kill a person with a thought and a wave of the hand. The Republic, too; they could hold guns.

Hutts? They made no sense.

Which was, ironically, the opinion of the woman who'd come through a cantina of lackeys, past a secretary with a smile that was surprisingly genuine considering how her eyes picked apart every passerby, and into a room filled with unpleasant sentients with guns. To offer her services, which amounted to more guns.

Nem'ro was gesturing expansively and gurgle-speaking something in Huttese. His translator was kind enough to interpret.

"Ah, the hunter who wants my favour for the Great Hunt. I hear you have been cleaning up my streets, chasing the scum away in my great name."

The scum? The gangs? Nem'ro was partly right. She'd definitely been killing a few of those, but it had been as much out of boredom as anything else. Tracking down Vexx had taken a lot longer than killing him had.

Aqura settled for a nod. It was easier than explaining everything else or pretending she'd intended any favours for Nem'ro.

More gurgle-speak. "Lovely little Mako says you are a famous bounty hunter – that hardened men run and hide just hearing your name. But Mako says a lot of things."

First of all, lovely? Disgusting. Second, when did Mako get the time for all this? It hadn't been that long a trip to the palace, except for the muck and that little gang war and taking that detour for… well, maybe it had taken Aqura a while to get here.

She crossed her arms and threw another mental thank-you to Aayha for the scent filters in her helmet. "We both know how this goes, Nem'ro. Give me something interesting to kill, I'll earn my way into the Hunt, and you get to be the Hutt who bankrolled the Grand Champion. And I'm not big on ceremony, so let's make it quick."

Aqura took a guess that Nem'ro's mouth turned to a frown, but it was hard to tell. "Very well, Mandokarla," his interpreter told her. "The first head you will bring me is that of an Evocii – one of those useless, sniveling natives."

Nem'ro leaned forward in a way he probably thought was threatening, but mostly just made him wobble like brown gelatin. "You don't have a soft spot for primitive tribesmen, do you?"

Racism aside? "It doesn't sound like an interesting challenge," Aqura grumbled. Even that came out a little grim and gravelly, which was nice.

"This wretch calls himself Huttsbane. He rebels against the rightful rulers of Hutta, raiding my holdings and scampering away to hide in a swamp village. Place his head on my floor."

Aqura suppressed a sigh, but not an eye roll – who was going to know? - and nodded.

"Kill Huttsbane's followers, too." The hutt's eyes shone with a universal sort of malice as he spoke, and Aqura knew what was going on before the interpreter spoke. "But leave their heads in the village. Go now."

Aqura turned and probably would have left with indecent haste if the interpreter hadn't said one more thing, in a tone that felt like he wasn't translating anymore. The houk growled in a way that was almost friendly. "Be careful, little bounty hunter. Huttsbane once blasted into other palace. Killed pile of captains, murdered a mighty hutt!"

A mighty hutt.

Aqura left before she burst out laughing at the thought.

Mud, muck, brown and green and grey stuff that gets everywhere.

Everything on Hutta looked the same, in the city, on the streets, and in the swamps, made of stone or metal or wood.

The armour was going to need a cleaning. Or ten.

"Mako," Aqura muttered, "be glad you're not out here."

"Actually," Mako's voice had a barely noticeable crackle over the commlink, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

No, she hadn't been, and she wouldn't be. "Can you tell me about the evocii?"

"Uh… yeah, I guess." There was a few seconds of muck-squelching silence as Mako did her thing and Aqura tried to find the most solid ground in a swamp while wearing full beskar'gam. Heavy beskar'gam. "Looks like the hutts showed up about eleven thousand years ago and basically conned the evocii out of their homeworld, piecemeal. Not much of the culture or anything left, between what the pollution's doing to them and the hutts suppressing everything about their history. What's left of the free people is mostly scattered villages. Aq- Mandokarla, this stuff is horrible. You're really going to go kill one of them?"

Aqura grunted, pulling a foot out of a particularly nasty patch of who-knew-what. "Huttsbane. Got on the bad side of the hutts. And Nem'ro said to kill all his collaborators, too."

"The pollution is slowly killing them off," Mako whispered. "That's just the ones who don't die working in the hutt's industrial plants. This… this isn't right."

That almost gave Aqura pause. Not physically – she'd probably sink if she slowed down – but it definitely threw off her train of thought.

Back when she was younger, she'd had a hunt with Denn and Krenn, her father and grandfather. They'd been after an ex-soldier. A good fighter, a fair hunt. But Aqura had had opinions on the Empire, back when she'd just gotten out of slavery and hadn't figured out that every nation had deserters. She'd argued with the other Mandos, almost fought them. The deserter had gotten away because of her.

Krenn had taken her aside, told her that it didn't matter what she thought on the hunt. He took her hand and ran it across the remains of one of his ears and down the scars to his neck. Hesitation, arguing, that was the sort of thing that got aliit killed. If she was going to hunt with them again, she'd do as she was told.

And then Denn had put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing wiry and thin muscles in that confident, supportive way he had. He told Krenn the old man wasn't allowed to teach that sort of thing alone, and told Aqura she could still tell them when she didn't think a mission was okay. She just had to do it before the hunt.

"No," Aqura agreed. "It's not. But that doesn't matter."

"But why-"

"We need to get into the Hunt. Nem'ro's our only path off this rock." Aqura finally spotted the rotting and haphazard fenceposts at the edge of the Evocii village. She gave a grim sort of a grin. "From what I hear, this Huttsbane guy is good. He'd probably survive a while, maybe tally another hutt or two, but it wouldn't matter. He's one man trying to fight a war."

"You're going to take away their hope," Mako pleaded, heedless of the logic.

Yes, she was. Worse, she was going to kill one of the few evocii with enough honour and courage to fight for his people.

"Tell you what," Aqura offered, "I'll convince Nem'ro to let me kill off a rival or two. And later, when the Hunt's done, we can come back and I'll kill Nem'ro, too. There's got to be a few bounties on him."

Maybe a few evocii would escape in the series of power vacuums.

Any who could get away from a place like this more than deserved their freedom, Aqura thought, pulling a foot out of the sucking, heavy swamp.

"I've got to go silent for a bit," she said, reaching up to her helmet. "I'm at the village. I'll try… I'm only after Huttsbane. Just him."

Then she flicked off her comm and pushed open a fence door that was barely hanging on. She stepped into the village, blaster raised and hoping she wouldn't have to use it much. Not on people like this. Not after all they'd suffered.

The irony was that anybody who tried to stop her was one of the ones who deserved to survive.

Irony was osik.

* * *

 _Shquik… drip… drip…_

"That's actually really gross," Mako said.

"You don't have to tell me." Aqura focused on working the sponge into one of the many little crevices in her armour. She could almost feel her back creak as she bent over the second greave, following the once-white tracing on the side of the calf. "I had to go hiking through it. I was tempted to just burn it all off."

"And then you'd smell like burned swamp scum," Mako concluded.

Aqura pursed her lips. "Oh. I hadn't thought of that. I was just worried I'd melt something important."

Mako gave her a skeptical look. "Melt? Why would- were you planning on using your flamethrower fuel?!"

The muck really was deep in this particular contour. Maybe something a bit more heavy duty than a soap and water bath was needed here. There weren't many options, though. Anything that could really get the job done needed ventilation because it was somehow more poisonous than the Hutta air, and Aqura wasn't allowed to show her face in public.

The fire would have been a good option.

"You were!" Mako threw her hands into the air, then brought them back down just as quickly, and sighed. "I thought you were an experienced bounty hunter. You're Mandalorian!"

"Technically, I've only been Mandalorian half my life," Aqura replied, tossing the greave aside with a clang and picking up a bracer. "And I am experienced. I've just never been on a planet this disgusting before, or worked with armour quite this nice."

Mako's eyes did that flickering thing again, and she nodded slowly. "You were adopted into a clan, then?"

Aqura nodded. She put a hand out in front of her, as if on somebody's head, and said, "I recognize you as my daughter. Vip. Done. Ceremony over. Mandos know how to get stuff over with. I love it."

"I suppose that's why you dropped Huttsbane's head at Nem'ro's… whatever, and told him, 'job done'?"

That took Aqura's attention from trying to get something unmentionable out of her carbonite spray nozzle. "How do you know about that?"

Mako smirked. "Word of that kind of thing gets around. I hear you tracked mud all over Nem'ro's nice, clean entryway. Besides," she said, tapping her temple, "I can tap into your audio filters when I want to. I could install a Huttese translator program, if you want."

She hadn't asked. It would have been nice if she'd asked. But it sounded useful. Sort of like Mako could have her back even when she wasn't around.

"No, thanks. I hope not to do much chatting with hutts… you heard about my next assignment, then? I couldn't get him to let me after Faathra himself."

The computer suddenly took on a whole new level of fascination for Mako. Images flitted past so quickly Aqura couldn't tell what most of them were. From the looks of it, none of them were to do with anything on Hutta.

The girl nodded. "What are you going to do?"

The Mandalorian snorted. "Well, I'm not going to give a woman her own husband's head, if that's what you mean. Faathra gets to pick the target, not how I handle it; I don't care what he pretends. I just wish this were something more interesting than a hutt's ex-accountant."

"I bet you'd be surprised how influential a man like that can be," said Mako. "I bet he knows all of Nem'ro's dirty secrets. If you want, I can come with you, find out everything there is to know about Nem'ro's business. It could be useful later."

There it was again, that offer to come on the hunt. Aqura didn't even consider it.

"You haven't been in business long if you want to blackmail a hutt."

"Not blackmail." Mako turned around, trying to catch Aqura's eyes. The warrior finished with her bracer and moved on to the next one. "I just thought we could negotiate better if we know what he wants."

"He wants what every hutt wants: control over everybody, and all the credits he can get his chubby hands on," Aqura muttered. Louder, she said, "no, Mako, I won't be needing you on the hunt. I need you here, safe from danger."

She glanced up to see Mako grinding her teeth, but the girl clamped down on what she was going to say and went with, "speaking of danger, there was somebody following me earlier today, while I… said goodbye."

"Who? Can you describe them? Did it look like somebody who'd be with Blood?" Aqura was on her feet, uncertain of when she'd stood up. Her armour clattered loudly to the floor, and she leaned towards her blaster pistol. Mako leaned back from the outburst.

"What? I don't know, what would somebody like that look like? He was dressed like some off-world tribesman. Tall. Wore a white bone mask, like a death's head."

Frown deepened and sapphire eyes went dark with intent. "Kaleesh. Pretty good trackers and fighting techniques. Lig swords are pretty good at stabbing and slicing, but terrible at anything that needs weight behind it. In a pinch, anything light and wide can be used to protect yourself. Shoni spears don't get much use outside of hunting… Don't leave the room. I'll keep an eye out, kill him if I see him."

"I was thinking you could give me some pointers. I'm pretty good with a blaster pistol, we could-"

"No." Aqura picked up her armour and started fitting it back on. "Keep the door locked, keep a blaster pistol in your hands. When all this is done… when we get of Hutta, I'll teach you what I can. Right now, we just need to get away from anywhere Tarro Blood might find you. But you're not hunting with me. It's not safe."

She didn't need to look up from fitting her greaves on to know how Mako was glaring at her. She could practically feel it. Probably battle instincts, warning her about the sort of thing that would kill her.

There was probably a species or two in the galaxy that could do it with a look. None she'd yet heard of, but probably.

"And where are you going, then? The sun's almost set. For whatever that's worth on this rock."

Aqura nodded. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll deal with the accountant tomorrow. I'm going to get a look around, see if I can spot that kaleesh anywhere. They've got a sort of thermal vision, so I'd rather make sure he's not around before night falls. Then I'm going to do some remembering while the sun sets."

That set Mako back a bit. "Remembering?" she asked, her hands falling from their crossed position for the first time in minutes.

Another nod, then the Mandalorian put her helmet on. "Yeah. Two good friends of mine just died. Sunset's as good a time as any. Better than most. I guess it's a ceremony I can appreciate."

She turned to leave, but paused when the girl reached out to her. Mako dropped her hand, holding it to her chest a little self-consciously.

"When will you be back?"

Aqura resisted the urge to reach out and hold the girl. No street urchin wanted to be coddled like that, even when they secretly did. All she said was, "I'll be back by sunset. If I'm a bit late… well, new names sometimes take a bit longer. That's all."

With that, she turned and left, palming the control panel as she passed so the door locked behind her.

There was no way Mako was going like Braden. Or Jory. Or so, so many others.


	4. Nal Hutta 3

The rodian steamed slightly on the floor. That was good. Steam meant cauterized wounds, and less cleaning for Nem'ro's servants.

She hadn't been able to stop one of the bug-woman's eyes from bursting, though. It had been pretty spectacular, a sequence of popping blisters and eye-jelly all over the place.

Aqura turned her head to look at Juda, the nice young twi'lek secretary Nem'ro kept in the hall outside his throne room.

"Sorry about the mess," she tried.

Juda smiled. "It's not problem. Every once in a while, somebody stupid gets past the guards at the cantina entrance. I'm just glad you were here to deal with her."

Aqura smiled back, though the secretary couldn't see it. They both knew Juda could have handled this particular dreg. The girl had been on her gun just as fast as Aqura had moved. Reflexes like that had to be why Juda was hired in the first place.

Still, Aqura pretended she didn't know how dangerous Juda was. It was only polite.

A quick search revealed nothing on the body but a few credit chips and the blaster. Made sense. The rodian had said Tarro Blood sent her, promised her a place in the Hunt. Only somebody desperate would take that kind of deal. Aqura took the credits and blaster, throwing the first to Juda and putting the second in a spare holster.

"I've got some talking to do with the big one," she said, turning away. "Credits for the disposal?"

Juda smiled again, as genuine and bright as always. "Sure thing," she said. "Don't say anything I wouldn't."

Aqura laughed and kept on the short path to the throne room.

The talk with Nem'ro was uneventful and frustrating. Yet another task to "prove her worth," this time some sort of assassination on one of the hutt's own household. Effectively a slave execution, even if that slave had responsibility for every bizarre animal Nem'ro had collected over the years. Aqura put up a fight over it, telling Nem'ro that it was all beneath her, and some little man with seriously overdesigned headgear had offered to do the job for him. Still, the Big One had insisted "the little hunter" do the job.

It had gone the same way every time for days. Another assignment, nothing that really tested Aqura's skills, and an argument that, if Nem'ro really wanted to know how good the hunter was, he'd send her after his greatest rival, Faathra the hutt. Nem'ro would laugh and send her off like a scurrying rodent.

The "beastmaster" was downstairs, where all the animal pens were. It was a short walk to the elevators, but Aqura dawdled. In a corner of the palace, she leaned against the wall and activated her commlink.

"Mako."

"Wh-yes? I'm here."

"I need some information on Nem'ro's beastmaster. He's got me cleaning house; he figures the beastmaster's a traitor or something. I don't know, I've got a bad feeling about this. He keeps sending me after nobodies… could you just do a quick check, see what might be going on?"

"Yeah, I can do that. Just give me a few minutes, alright?"

The line went silent and Aqura had a while to think.

Mako had helped her a lot the last few days. It turned out that having an information master at her beck and call was almost as useful as having an expert hacker helping out wherever she could. It was one of the best partnerships she'd ever had, working with somebody whose experience seemed to cover everything needed.

Except that wasn't what Mako wanted. She'd said so, she'd been nagging about it for days.

As if nothing had ever happened to Braden and Jory, Mako insisted on asking to come on the hunt.

Stupid girl. Brilliant, but stupid.

Aqura stood at the top of the elevators, looking vaguely menacingly at any passerby. Idly, she pulled out the blaster pistol the rodian had been using, testing the weight, checking the sights, pulling out the power cell and trying the trigger.

When she was done, she made a simple pronouncement.

"Osik."

The rodian had come after her with this thing? Maybe she couldn't speak to the thing's mechanical functioning, but it felt all wrong.

Speaking of feeling all wrong… the power cell slipped out of her hands, and when she went to grab it, she overcorrected the grab. She snagged it out of the air just fine, but the gunk in her joints was getting out of hand. A few fingers flexed experimentally, not responding quite as quickly as they should.

Also bad, the cell looked dented now. That definitely wasn't good.

So much for keeping a spare or giving it to Mako to work with. It might have made a good peace offering. And, between the rodian and that kaleesh who'd been following Mako around, she needed something better than that little hand-me-down from Jory.

Should have taken Braden's old blaster. He'd have liked knowing it was kept in the family.

Too late now. The blaster had gone up in flames with everything else Braden kept close.

"Hey, boss?"

The power armour kept Aqura from starting violently and embarrassing herself in front of that little man from before. She sort of jammed the parts of the blaster pistol together and threw it into her holster, then activated her half of the commlink. "Boss? I figured we were partners."

"Says the woman who grounded me the day we met."

Ouch. No, that wasn't exactly a teamwork sort of action. But it was necessary.

"A rodian hunter came after me today," Aqura replied. "We've got more than that kaleesh to worry about. Who knows what Blood's sent after us?"

"You handled the rodian just fine, though, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"See? It's not like anybody more dangerous than you is going to come after us. The safest place for me-"

"-is behind a locked door," Aqura said heatedly. "Now, what have you got on the beastmaster?"

Mako went petulantly silent, then grumbled, "nothing. His name's Sevig Nathe. He's worked for the Big One for almost two decades now. He's raised everything from k'lor'slugs to gundarks. Anything else, well, it's just what you'd expect. Nothing I can find that would make Nem'ro send you after him."

"Probably just got bored of him," Aqura muttered.

"What?"

Wait. That actually made perfect sense.

"I said, Nem'ro's probably just bored of him. When was the last time this guy got something new in?"

"Give me a sec… uh… six years, looks like. A litter of kath pups. After that, just repeats of the same old stuff."

Aqura felt her teeth grinding. Typical hutt. Bored of his servant, so he sent a passing hunter to execute the poor guy. In style, if possible.

"I'm going down there and telling the guy about this."

"You can't do that!" Mako cried. Aqura winced and the speakers in her helmet crackled slightly. "Let me come in. I can talk to Nem'ro. We can talk him into letting you do something that's worth getting into the Hunt. This is leverage. I can run up the rest of the case on my way in-"

"No." The decision was ironclad. "I just dealt with one of Blood's little assassins. You're not leaving that room without an escort."

"Then come get me! We can do this! If you go down there you'll either end up fighting Sevig or Nem'ro himself."

"Mandokarla, out." Two flicks, and both send and receive functions went down. Mako would probably figure out a way to override the thing in a bit, but the conversation was done, so there was no point in talking anymore.

Now was probably the time for fighting. That was for the best. It was what Mandalorians were best at.

Once more, she gave quick thanks for the fact that beskar'gam was like wearing an implicit warning sign. The cantina patrons got out of her way and the people already in the elevator vacated it. Not two minutes later, she was in Nem'ro's basement, where he kept all his little monsters.

Apparently, beast pits were more interesting when a hutt could drop people into them via trap door.

Aqura realized one big problem with her plan the moment she stepped off the elevator: the living quarters weren't on the elevator side of the beast pit.

The beast pit was actually a domed arena with a retractable roof, surrounded by cage doors. Each one led off to the pen of one beastie or another, except for the two that led to the elevator and the beastmaster's quarters.

Since those two things weren't on the same side of the pit, that meant she'd have to cross the arena to get to the beastmaster and talk to him. And, beastmaster or not, Nem'ro had the controls to all the cage doors.

This was a trap. This was the biggest, dumbest, most obvious and pathetic trap Aqura had ever seen. It was the hutt of traps, the Hutta of traps! There were spike pits less obvious than this trap.

Aqura stepped through the cage door and into the arena.

There were actually quite a lot of bones in the arena. And blood stains. And claw marks. Nem'ro probably didn't have them cleaned up because they added "flavour".

But nothing happened. No alarm went off, no hutt laughing over the intercom, no sudden opening of the cage doors.

So there was a signal being waited for.

Aqura waited for a few more seconds, then sighed.

In with a freighter, in with a fleet.

"Hey, Nevig!" she yelled, cupping her hands around the front of her helmet. She called again, walking towards the only cage door that didn't obviously lead to something that wanted to eat her or back to safety. "Nevig, I need to talk with you!"

A man almost as wide as he was tall walked up to the cage doors, but didn't open them.

"Nevig, I think Nem-"

"You call, just like Nem'ro said you would. So stupid. Now I kill you, and Nem'ro give me big reward."

Aqura put her hands up. "I'm just here to talk, Nevig. I think Nem'ro's planning-"

"FREE THE BEASTS!"

There was a rumble as all the cages began to open, and – there it was – hutt laughter. Low, slow, and gurgling.

It was mostly resignation that had Aqura turning around to see a flickering hologram of Nem'ro wink out high up on the dome. The ceiling of the arena was retracting to reveal the real Nem'ro above, trailing off of the same laugh.

A swarm of all kinds of beasts came charging out of their pens, but Aqura just put her hands on her hips and shook her head. She leaned back to yell at Nem'ro, "YOU KNOW I HAVE A JET- ooh, is that dewback?"

Maybe, just for a warmup… It wasn't like she couldn't go argue with Nem'ro after the fight, after all.

She drew her blaster pistol, grinning.

The k'lor'slugs were the first to go. Ugly things, and no fun to fight. Just shell and lots of legs and a really big mouth. So she darted in, waited for the first one to rear up, and took it in the soft underbelly with her vibroblade. It spilled and dragged its guts across the ground for a few seconds before it died – long enough for its brethren to frenzy on it and eat it alive. Gruesome, but really, really effective. The other two almost ate each other alive because she'd darted back, too far away to reach, by the time they finished with their fellow.

Ha. She'd guessed right; the k'lor'slugs weren't even from the same hive. The beastmaster must have had a big job keeping them from killing each other before now.

She skipped backwards, tapping her jetpack intermittently to keep up speed and keep her away from from the charging gundark and the dewback. Both were big, big beasts with strong arms and big mouths. The difference was that the gundark had four arms and the dewback got around by planting its arms and swinging its legs forward instead of running. The legs had massive talons on the ends.

That was going to be so fun.

A few blaster bolts killed the little humanoid vrblthr creatures. Little ghoul monsters.

That left the gundark, the dewback, and a few juvenile akk dogs that barely came up to Aqura's thigh. Two big sets of jaws, three little ones, the gundark's four arms, and the dewback's hind claws that were really more like talons. Against Aqura's blaster pistol, vibroblade, and carbonite spray.

No problem.

Then things went wrong.

It was a rookie mistake. She had her eyes on the dewback. She'd never fought one before, and she'd been trying to get a handle on how it moved before taking it down. Then one of her knee joints locked up as she darted around, probably because of the gunk all over Hutta. She stumbled, and an akk pup got its little jaws on her shinplate.

She went down with all the sound and weight of Mandalorian iron.

"OS-nngh-IK!" she yelled, rolling over and crushing a complete set of humanoid bones. The gunk, the speed of the jetpack, the weight of the armour, it was too much, and she couldn't get her feet back under her fast enough. Couldn't roll with the fall.

She slammed into the side of the arena, to the resounding laughter of Nem'ro and his lackeys. Her blaster was no longer in her hand.

Osik, Mako was right. This had been a bad idea.

 _-crrk-_ "- ause there's no way you can just-" - _crrk_ -

Mako?

No time to worry. The akk pup's pals were coming in fast, and the two big beasties weren't far behind.

With a hydraulic-empowered kick, the tenacious pup went flying – minus a few teeth – into and under the claws of the approaching dewback. The dewback hefted itself onto its arms, swung its legs forward, landed on and rent the akk pup in two, and kept going like nothing had happened.

Without enough time to outmaneuver the approaching menagerie and no room to back up, Aqura decided on the age-old strategy. She activated her jetpack.

It sputtered, helped her up to her feet, and died.

"Shabla," she muttered.

- _crrk-_ "-at was that? This is harder than I thought it'd- oh, hey, I think I've got it."

"Busy," Aqura muttered.

Blaster behind the big ones, little ones almost on top of her, jetpack out of commission… vibroblades, then.

 _Snik-snikt_

She dashed forward and to the right, towards the dewback and away from the others.

"Busy? What- you already got in a fight, didn't you?"

She came on the dewback the moment its legs hit the ground, just before its arms came up. Right when it was most off-balance. It couldn't lean forward to take a bite out of her or bring its legs forward to gore her. Hopefully.

Its arm came up to swipe at her. She ducked under it, lifting one arm and bracing it with her other hand. Vibroblade caught flesh, and the beast's amazing strength pulled the blade all the way through its wrist.

The dewback roared, and Aqura took advantage of that. She reached up, put her hand into its mouth, and pulled downwards.

It fell flat on its face, overbalanced on legs not designed for standing.

"Is it Nem'ro or Nevig? Never mind, must be Nevig. That wasn't a hutt roar. Do you need help? I can-"

Aqura punched into the fallen dewback's eye. Deep, deep into the eye until her vibroblade speared through the back and into the beast's brain. "Mako, I'm BU- Waoah!"

"What's that sound?"

That would be the metal straining.

"G-nngh-drk."

"What? Oh! Gundark!"

The beast roared. Aqura's helmet vibrated.

Not many options. She couldn't pull her leg back enough for a proper hydraulic kick. Maybe if she retracted and repositioned her vibroblades? Except a gundark with a grip wasn't letting go for a few pinpricks, no matter how sharp. Could she use the blaster's power cell; the one she'd damaged? It might blow off something important, but the gundark would definitely come out of it worse than she would.

"It sounds close. Are you okay?"

Aqura had an image of her helmet popping off and her dying act being to bite off the gundark's green, pointed ear.

The ears!

"Snn...iks..."

There was a cracking, crackling sound from her jetpack.

Then, suddenly, the heads-up-display in her helmet flickered. Weird. It wasn't being crushed.

"What? I've got a vis- woah, gundark! Oh, fierf- Sonics! You said sonics! I can do that, just hold on!"

Sure. She didn't have anything else to do.

Another ominous creak. Aqura could smell the gundark's breath now; there had to be a crack in her armour somewhere. The beskar'gam had gone from snug to skintight and was edging into just tight.

And Aqura was pretty sure she could feel one of the akk pups gnawing on her foot.

"I hope your vocals are open," Mako muttered over the heavy breath of the gundark. "Or this'll have to go from loud to really loud."

A headache exploded into Aqura's head, piercing into both ears and exploding inside her brain. A sound she couldn't hear drilling straight into her skull. She cried out, but the sound was drowned out by gundark's roar. It threw out its arms and she fell.

Pain was just pain, though. She'd been ready for this. She landed less lightly than she'd have liked, but her vibroblades were out.

The gundark flailed wildly, two arms over its ears and the other two swinging at whatever it thought was attacking. One of the akk pups, also keening in pain on the ground, went flying across the arena.

The agony was building. Her balance was failing and her suit was too tight to get proper air.

Blood ran down Aqura's neck.

She stumbled to her knees, cutting a rib bone free of one of the arena's trophy skeletons. With two swipes, she sharpened it. It was crude, she'd missed the points she'd been aiming for, but it would work.

"Turn it off," she growled.

The pain didn't stop, but it didn't build anymore. There was still a vague sense of ringing just beyond what she could actually make sense of. The warrior managed a step forward, wobbled, and then caught her stride. The gundark was regaining its senses, too.

The beast wasn't fast enough. Aqura managed a clumsy duck under one of its errant arms, and then she brought her improvised weapon up alongside her left hand. There was something altogether more dangerous in her right.

Gundarks were tough. No two ways about that. It was always best to have a plan when taking one on. She'd hoped to get it alone and wear it out, maybe break its arms before putting it out of its misery.

Her right hand's vibroblade punched into the beast's sternum, right below its ribs. She twisted, widening the hole, then used the rib to push the item in her right hand into that hole.

Then she darted backwards, falling onto her butt in the process.

Dignity was one thing. This was going to be disgusting.

The gundark didn't seem to know what to do. It probably couldn't decide what hurt more: its ears or its chest.

In a second, it didn't matter.

It swelled up, just like it would if it were breathing in to roar at her. Except, instead of roaring, it kept expanding past anything reasonable. Then, in a flash of light and sound, its upper body disappeared.

Well, sort of. There were actually red and green bits of gundark chest all over the arena now. Nem'ro and his lackeys sounded pretty thrilled about the whole thing.

"We," she managed with a wheeze, "did it. Thanks, Mako."

"You made it? You're alright? Oh, man, boss, that was amazing! I've got the whole thing recorded. What're you-"

"Gotta… one sec, Mako," Aqura breathed, climbing back to her feet.

Beastmaster Nevig was inching his way into the arena. The last akk pup huddled up to his side, and he patted it hesitantly, still staring at Aqura. "You killed Fleshripper," he said, dumbstruck. Then his expression changed to rage. "I kill you!"

He drew a meter-long stun baton from his back, but hesitated when Aqura fell into a ready stance, both vibroblades up and legs perfectly steady.

He didn't need to know she was using the suit's hydraulics to hold her in place.

"Ne shab'rud'nio," she warned. Don't mess with me. It sounded a lot more threatening in Mando'a. Mostly because it always implied, "I'll kill you."

The beast trainer lowered his baton and took half a step back.

From above came a gurgling roar. Aqura didn't speak Huttese, and she didn't need to. She could figure out the meaning on her own.

"Kill him!"

Aqura shook her head slowly. "I've earned my sponsorship," she called, keeping her eyes on Nevig. She took a few steps back and gingerly knelt to pick up her blaster pistol. "There's no sport in killing a fat man with a shock prod."

She turned, looking up at Nem'ro. "You just got the best fight this pit has ever seen. Now you want to ruin it by having me shoot a man who couldn't have killed me when I was a youngling? Where's your sense of entertainment?"

Nem'ro tried to stare her down, but she didn't care. She was wearing a helmet. She could let her eyes wander all she wanted. Or close. Haar'chak, she needed a nap.

Speaking of which, she needed a second to check how much damage had been done to her chestplate. The jetpack was probably scrap and she'd have some trouble squeezing into the armour until she had it fixed, but who knew what it looked like? She could be staring down a hutt while wearing the equivalent of a crushed canister.

Not intimidating.

Nem'ro raised hand and waved dismissively. Bone cracked and dirt crunched as Nevig left the arena. Then Nem'ro leaned – rolled – forward slightly. And laughed.

He laughed deep and loud, his entire body rippling with the sound. It took him minutes to finally stop.

He was definitely going to die. It didn't have to be slow, but it had better be soon. As soon as she dealt with Tarro Blood and won the Great Hunt, she'd come back and murder him. It'd be fun. Like a nostalgic sort of vacation.

"You cannot have the sponsorship token," he laughed, spreading his hands.

Or he could die now. Aqura raised her blaster pistol.

How many blaster bolts to stop the heart of a hutt?

"I do not have it," Nem'ro continued. His bodyguards moved in front of the potential attack. "I gave it to another. When the Great Hunt representative arrives, he will take the one with the token to the meeting place."

"Who has it!? Who did you give it to, you worm?"

That quieted Nem'ro's laughter. "It is by my grace that you walk out of here, Mandokarla. I will not tell you who has the token, but I will allow you to leave. You will even be paid for the show. Now, go. Hunt down your competitor, and the victor shall represent me in the Great Hunt!"

Then Nem'ro burst into gales of gurgling laughter again, and the arena's roof closed.

"I'm already on it, boss. We'll talk when you get back, alright?"

Aqura nodded numbly. Then she holstered her pistol, gave the gundark's legs a solid kick, and walked out of the arena.

he took the elevator upstairs and walked down the hallway into the cantina, and almost made it out of the palace before she realized part of what Nem'ro had said.

Paid for the show, huh? She better be paid so well it made heads spin.

Besides, there was something she could do to pay Mako back for today.

Juda's reaction was a little less jovial than usual when Aqura got to her. She grimaced and looked the warrior up and down.

"That bad, huh?"

Juda bit her lip and nodded. "I saw what you went through on the monitor," she said, pointing across the hall at a screen in the corner. "I've never seen anything like it."

"With any luck, you won't have to again."

Juda smiled. "Oh, I don't know. It was pretty impressive, and you got out mostly fine. Oh, right!" She handed over a credit chip, which Aqura took gratefully. "I'd say you earned that."

Aqura looked at the credit chip, mentally tallying costs for getting off Hutta, fixing up her armour, and emergency funds. Or, trying to. Math wasn't her strong suit.

Juda tilted her head slightly. "Is there something wrong?"

The hunter abandoned her math and decided to go with her gut. She shook her head, pocketed the chip, and said, "no, it's just… are you free after work, Juda?"

The secretary laughed. "Hunter, if you're going to ask a girl out, you might want to dress nicer. I think you still have gundark on your shoulder.

Aqura raised her hands and shook her head. "No, no, I didn't mean that. I just wanted to ask a favour."

The twi'lek perked up at the idea. "What kind of favour?"

Why couldn't everyone be so happy to hear they could help someone?

"Well," she explained, "I have a friend who needs some tutoring, and Nem'ro's been keeping me running around all hours of the day. Now he's sent me n another ridiculous errand. I was wondering if you could help her out."

Juda looked a lot more troubled now. Uncertain.

"Not for free! You've seen what Nem'ro pays me, so I can cover it, no problem."

Juda shook her head. "No, that's not it. It's just… what would I tutor your friend-"

"-Mako-"

"-Mako in? I've never actually..."

"Neither have I," Aqura admitted, pointing a thumb at herself. "Street urchin. You know the kind. Not a day's formal education in my life. That's not a problem. I need Mako to know how to shoot."

That took Juda aback. "Shoot?"

Quick nod. "Yeah. She's got pretty much everything else covered. I figure you can teach her and keep her safe at the same time."

Like Jory and Braden were safe, nagged a dark part of Aqura's mind. She pushed it down. Mako'd earned this much, and she was going crazy locked up in that room.

Maybe she should wait until she'd found that kaleesh to set this up. It was possible the rodian and kaleesh had been sent at the same time, and the kaleesh was just smart enough to watch for a while before acting. The bone-faces were trained like that. Good hunters.

"I don't-"

Aqura couldn't raise her eyebrows in the helmet, but she could substitute with a pretty skeptical head tilt. It sufficed.

Juda sighed and smiled in an embarrassed sort of way. "Alright. You caught me. I guess you knew from the start, didn't you?"

Second trip by, actually. There'd been a lot on the Mando's mind the first time.

She shrugged and gave a short chuckle, which Juda shared. "Sure," Juda agreed. "Not tonight, but I can take Mako out for shooting practice in a couple of days. I know some spots the gangs don't bother with."

That was good. Very good. Time enough to catch a break and hunt down whoever it was Mako had seen. Then the two could practice while Aqura hunted down whoever held that token. With any luck at all, they could all kick back for a few days waiting for the Great Hunt representative to show.

"Thanks. She says she's pretty good already, but I just want to be sure."

"I understand."

They shook hands and Aqura left, satisfied. This should make her little hacker happy.

The trip back to "home base" was uneventful, and a couple of gang casualties later, she was knocking on the door of Mako's room.

Mako recoiled when the door opened.

"A gundark exploded on me. What do you expect?"

Mako nodded, then shook her head. "Wel-no- I mean, but it doesn't matter. I know how to find the man Nem'ro gave his token to."

"Oya." Aqura's cheer was breathed with as much disbelief as wonder. "Well done, Mako! I'll go get him right now."

Mako shook her head and matched Aqura's visored gaze. In a voice as firm as beskar, she delivered her ultimatum.

"I'm not telling you unless you let me come with you."


	5. Nal Hutta 4

The sun over Hutta was as hideous as the rest of the sky, even as it set. The atmosphere was sickening brown where it wasn't threateningly green or some horrendous shade of deathly yellow.

Still, it was sunset, so Aqura climbed up to the top of the cantina – her own take on the ritual – and stood to look at the sun.

Well, it wasn't as if somebody was going to kick a Mandalorian off of the building.

It took her a few moments to compose herself. She had a pair of new names today.

"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum." You're gone. I'm still here. I remember you, so you are eternal.

"Thaumas." The man who'd taught her how to survive, how to fight, how to live. The first father she'd ever had.

"Dar'vao." A little twi'lek girl who'd never known her parents, a slave girl who'd saved Aqura's life. She'd been with Aqura when neither of them had anyone else, and she was as loyal as any star's planet.

"Denn." The man who'd saved Aqura from slavery. Sort of. The man who'd given Aqura her nickname, who had a quick smile and a quicker blade. The second father she'd ever lost.

"Krenn." Annoying old man with a beautiful set of red beskar'gam. Uncle Krenn was always the one to double-check she'd eaten enough or completed her chores or her training or her studies. Aqura didn't know much, but what she'd learned over the years could often be traced back to an old man who nagged way too much.

"Shon." A woman as far from the Mandalorian stereotype as it got. Shon had always been so gentle, so kind. The clan always claimed they never got sick because they were too scared to make Shon worry.

"Yoru." Cold and hot, all the time. She'd go from chilly and reserved to enraged or happy or anything else that involved enough noise to make the stars take interest, and then she'd go right back to cold and silent, as if nothing had happened. How Sho'cye had dealt with it, nobody ever had any idea.

"Lekan." A perpetual tinkerer and joker, his gun was never without some new tweak or modification he was getting ready to test. Aqura didn't think he'd ever been free of one fascination or another. He'd been an embodiment of shereshoy.

Now for the last two. The newest ones. Two more names for her to speak to the sunset every night. Uncle Sherkan kept telling her it was his job, as the eldest of the clan, that she was too young to be remembering the dead every day. It didn't matter what he thought. Aqura had one name nobody else would remember. For the others… she didn't want to admit why she made herself remember them.

For a moment, she wondered who would remember her and the people she remembered, once she was gone.

"Jory." Not given enough credit for how thoughtful he was. Greedy, sure, and handy with a hydrospanner, but Jory's secret pleasure had always been his discussions about people and the galaxy.

"Braden." A kind man, and blunt. He believed war should be about respect as much as fighting for what you believed in. It had gotten him into a lot of trouble over the years.

All of them, killers. Even little Dar'vao and kind Shon. Even Thaumas. Every one of them had turned others into nothing but memories. But they were different from Tarro Blood. When one of the people Aqura remembered killed someone, there was a kind of passion and intimacy to it. Tarro Blood's murders had been for cold ambition. He hadn't even had the decency to look his victims in the eye.

A man like that wouldn't be remembered. Not if Aqura had anything to say about it.

"Hey! A- Mandokarla!"

Aqura looked down to see Mako waving up at her. "Gar ganar jaro!" Aqura yelled, leaping off the building and barely giving her jetpack enough thrust to keep from breaking something when she hit the ground. She stood and charged the girl, eyes on the street.

"What?" Mako asked.

"I said, do you have a death wish? There's a gang war going on! Get inside!" Aqura grabbed her by the arm and started pulling her towards the cantina entrance.

Mako pulled her arm away, glaring. "There's not much of a war since you started cleaning up the streets. And stop babying me! You've barely given me a second to breath since you showed up."

"We can have this conversation inside," Aqura growled, reaching for the girl again.

"NO!" Mako danced back, a little more nimbly than the Mandalorian expected. "We're so close. We'd already have that sponsorship if you'd just stop being so stubborn!"

"The only one being stubborn is you, mir'sheb!"

This was ridiculous! Aqura was a trained Mandalorian bounty hunter, and this girl was dancing around her. There were any number of ways this fight could be over already.

Except they all involved hurting Mako.

"Okay."

Mako stopped.

"What?"

"Okay," Aqura repeated. "I'll hear you out. I'll at least hear you out. No promises. Just… please. Come inside."

Mako's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Please, Mako. Just long enough to talk."

"You first," Mako crossed her arms defiantly.

So Aqura grit her teeth, turned around, and walked towards the cantina's entrance. Every step clanked with stiff limbs, every blaster shot in the distance made her flinch, and she had to force herself not to look back and check that Mako was following. Twice before she reached the door, she almost turned anyway.

Stupid, stupid girl. She was going to die and Aqura wouldn't even be able to keep her name because she didn't know didn't know anything about Mako.

When she got into the cantina, a wide berth cleared for her. All they could see was a tense Mandalorian.

It was a horrible twenty seconds before Mako came through the doorway, too.

"Here," she said, stopping just inside.

Aqura took the win. "Alright," she said. "Why are you so determined to get yourself killed?"

Mako almost exploded at Aqura. Her fists went up and her face went red, and she looked ready to yell, for just a second. Then she grit her teeth and let out a slow breath. "I don't want to die, I want a little freedom," she snapped.

"Can't you at least wait until we're somewhere safer?"

"Bounty hunting isn't safe!"

"I know that! Braden and Jory are dead! Most of my family is-"

Aqura cut off and swung her arm to point at a man who wanted to go through the front door. "Come any closer and we continue this conversation by firelight," she threatened.

The man was already gone.

"So you're just going to trap me until… what?" Mako sneered. "Until we're off Hutta? Until the end of the Great Hunt? Until the day I finally die in my sleep of natural causes?"

"At this rate, we won't even get into the Great Hunt," Aqura pointed out.

"Because of you!"

They'd had the sponsorship. They thought they'd had it. Then it turned out Nem'ro had conned them, getting them to work for a token he'd already given away. Somebody on Hutta had it now.

"No," Aqura replied coldly, "because of you. You have the information. You're lucky I don't beat it out of you."

"You wouldn't have to, if you'd just take me with you!"

"That's what we call blackmail in the business, Mako," Aqura said. "You really want to keep trying that on a Mandalorian?"

Mako seethed, pressing herself into the wall as if she could knock it down in a fit of rage-fueled strength. "Blackmail isn't half as bad as slavery," she spat.

"Ne'johaa!" Aqura went rigid. One hand came up, almost reflexively, and she pulled it back before she did something she'd regret. "Mako. I'm going to give you one chance to take that back. Braden's little girl or not, you won't get away with it."

Suddenly, Mako seemed to realize her position, arguing with a fully armoured, fully armed Mandalorian warrior. A protective woman, maybe, even one who'd doted on her when possible, but not a woman worth crossing for any reason. Over the days of ingratiating themselves to Nem'ro the Hutt, she'd seen exactly what Aqura could do. Well, she'd seen names crossed off lists. One after another, without fail.

Mako swallowed. "Yeah, okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I just don't see my options right now."

Aqura softened immediately. Maybe she didn't do fear the same way most people did, but she wasn't going to stoop to intimidating a child. She understood how that felt. She'd grown up around Sith. "You can tell me who has Nem'ro's sponsorship, then stay here while I go kill him. Then we can get off this planet together."

She said it softly. It was an option now, not an order.

Even if it was an option she desperately wished Mako would take, and knew she wouldn't.

"I don't want to," Mako said, predictably. "I want to go with you."

"Why?"

"Because I want to be free," Mako repeated.

"You've said that," Aqura tried not to snap. "There are other ways to get out of this cantina than following me on a hunt. You don't-"

"No," Mako said, and she still didn't raise her voice, still wouldn't meet the gaze of Aqura's helmet. "I want the freedom that comes with being a hunter. I want to be able to travel like you and Braden and Jory. I only ever came along with them. Some day, I want to be able to go myself."

Aqura watched the girl silently.

"It's not something slicers can do," Mako explained. "We get a legitimate job, in an office on a planet somewhere, or we're on the run from the law. There's never any in-between. With Braden, it was different. I saw new planets, I traveled the galaxy… but I'm never going to be able to choose where to go, unless I can do it all myself. I'll be stuck following somebody else across the galaxy all my life."

Aqura could understand that. Worse, she'd felt it. The galaxy was a big, big place, with so much more than the cesspit of Nal Hutta and criminal haven of Nar Shadaa.

Who wouldn't want to see more? The mountains of Alderaan, the wildlife of Dxun, the strange beauty of the Kaliida Nebula?

Oh, manda, she'd regret this.

"Tomorrow," Aqura said.

Mako's gaze snapped up. "What?"

Aqura forced herself to relax her gritted teeth. "Tomorrow," she repeated. "In the morning, we'll go after this guy."

"We?" Mako grinned.

"Yeah." Aqura turned and beckoned for Mako to follow her into the back. "You don't need to tell me yet; we'll be together tomorrow. But I think I need to know more about you before we go. So grab some of that sludge they call caf here and meet me in the room."

Even if Mako died tomorrow, Aqura would make sure somebody remembered her. That was the least she owed the girl, and far less than she owed Braden.

"Stay behind me unless I say otherwise. If I do, move fast. If, for any reason, I tell you to leave, you run as fast as you can all the way back to the cantina. No questions. Got it?"

There was a somewhat petulant grumble.

"Mako."

"Yes, I got it! You don't have to mother my every step!"

Aqura tried not to glare. She made a big show of checking the partially-cleaned joints in her armour. "I'm just don't want you to die," she whispered.

"What?"

"Let's go."

Aqura took the first steps and led Mako into the so-called grand palace of Fa'athra the hutt.

Fa'athra's palace was an ugly place, as expected. And well defended.

"Wall!" Aqura yelled, pushing Mako into cover by the wall and ducking a blaster shot herself.

"I know!" Mako yelled back over the sound of mercenaries, who were also yelling and firing blasters down the hall.

Aqura pressed herself against the opposite wall. Beskar was well and good, but it didn't make her invincible.

Most of her family had owned a set.

Mako seemed to be doing well enough, angled into better cover from the mercenaries than Aqura had and keeping a good suppressing fire on them.

No killing instinct, though. Not a single shot to kill.

That actually made Aqura feel better. It was better, starting out, to have trouble killing. The alternative was disturbing.

The mercenaries were in cover behind a countertop bar and a few overturned tables. To the side was a holoprojector featuring an image of Fa'athra the Hutt lounging with a few slave women, but she didn't see how that could be useful.

Maybe the room was so empty because Fa'athra didn't get as many bootlickers as Nem'ro?

The floor in front of the mercenaries creased and flipped in on itself to reveal two automated turrets. Big ones.

"Cannons!" she called to Mako.

"I know," Mako said through her comms. "You don't need to yell."

Oh, she knew! That made it all better. There was no way Mako would be killed by the massively powerful automated cannons as long as she knew about them.

Wrong attitude right now, Aqura scolded herself.

The mercs hooted and laughed and yelled taunts as chunks were ripped out of the wall Aqura was using for cover. She'd have to move sooner or die later.

Doors on either side of the room, not including the entryway they were standing in. Bar counter that was clearly blaster-proof – maybe durable enough to take a hit from the turrets? Except the turrets were in the center of the room and the bar was on the far end. That wasn't an option. There were tables scattered around the room, bottles behind the bar, cameras on the walls...

Alright. She could do this if she moved fast enough.

She really wished she could have checked the rotation speed on-

Hey, now.

"Mako, can you-"

"Aqura, I have an-"

"What?" both of them asked.

Aqura went first. "Can you get the specs on those turrets? I need to know if I can dodge them."

"I can do better than that," Mako laughed. "You know those panels they flipped out of? Turns out they're attached to a remote one of the guards has. A remote on a frequency we've got."

A remote on-

Oh.

"On my mark," Aqura called back. "Three. Two. One. Oya!"

Her arm came around the corner first, firing into the area above the merc's heads. Bottles shattered and shards flew everywhere. Some of the mercenaries screamed, all of them ducked or blinked or flinched, giving Aqura an edge on every organic in the room.

As for the synthetics, Mako had it covered. The turrets, still firing, flipped back underneath the floor just as Aqura came out of cover.

Blaster bolts killed three of the mercs too stupid to take cover, then Aqura knelt and punched a hole into the trapdoor assembly of one of the turrets with her vibroblade. Something squealed and sparked below. Another gunman went down, shot in the shoulder by Mako.

Then the second turret flipped back into the room.

Aqura put three blaster bolts into its power cables and continued her work.

A blaster bolt pinged off of her chestplate, but instead of dealing with the attacker, she killed a woman lining up a shot on Mako. Then she charged the man who'd shot her. He panicked and threw up his hands to ward off the leaping Mandalorian, then died with a vibroblade in his neck. The last two scrambled out from the cover they were suddenly on the wrong side of. Mako killed one, Aqura killed the other.

First, Aqura scanned the dead. One man, still moving, sat with his back to the bar. Aqura walked up to him and put the barrel of her blaster pistol against his head.

"I don't feel like killing a helpless man. I don't feel like wasting kolto on you. So how about we let each other be, and you focus on nothing but surviving that blaster wound?"

The man nodded.

She smiled and removed her pistol. "Good," she said, and kicked the nearest blaster away from him.

That handled, she checked the room. Clear. Nobody left moving, nothing left functioning except-

She shot a camera on the wall.

-nothing left functioning.

"Was that really necessary?" Mako asked, stepping up beside the armoured woman.

Aqura moved to make sure Mako had a table covering her on one side and Aqura's armoured body on the other, then said, "yes. There's always the chance they don't know what we're looking for. It'd be nice not to run into every guard they have."

"I could have just hooked into the lines and fixed all their cameras," Mako grumbled.

Aqura stared at her.

"Wow," she muttered. "We really should have gone into what sort of stuff you can do with those implants yesterday."

Mako rolled her eyes. "I guess it'll be a surprise. Now, come on. We still need to get to Doctor Albea before Rask does."

I hate surprises, Aqura thought. Well, not really. Sometimes. In this case.

She pushed her way in front of Mako and led the way down the hall. And immediately slowed to a halt.

Trying to get a good look down all three hallways they'd come to, Aqura laughed in embarrassment. "So… any idea which way to go?"

"Left," Mako said. "There's an elevator down the next hall. The Doctor will be downstairs, I'm sure of it."

One last check of the area, then Aqura followed Mako's directions, down the left hallway, into the elevator, and down to the basement.

"Did you download the palace's schematics?" she asked Mako curiously.

Mako was fiddling with her pistol, distracted. She had the maintenance clasp open and was looking at the plasma chamber inside.

"Uh-huh. She nodded.

"Mako," Aqura said, as insistent as she could be without interrupting, "you need to finish whatever you're doing there and close that panel."

Mako looked up from her work.

"Finish it," Aqura repeated.

Mako's face soured, and she got back to work. By the time the elevator reached the bottom floor, she'd finished and was closing the gun up.

Aqura sighed in relief. As the doors slid open, she said, "first of all, never take apart your gun in the field unless it's not firing or you think it's going to blow up. Second, for Manda's sake, DON'T leave the power cell in while you're messing with the plasma chamber!"

Mako blushed. "Oh. Right. The instructions did mention that."

A quiet choking sound came from Aqura's throat, though she'd been trying to say something along the lines of, "you can't maintain a gun in the field based on just an instruction manual!" It hadn't come out the way she hoped.

Moment gone, she walked out of the elevator and into a hutt's basement.

It looked exactly like what she expected from a hutt's palace, somehow both opulent and disgusting at the same time. The walls were fecal brown with "artistic" puke-green filigree and the floor was lit with lights that would have been bright if it weren't for the grime on them. Any respectable sentient would have at least tried to clean them, but obviously not a hutt.

"Which way?"

Mako pointed down one of the halls and Aq ura took point.

There were a few people. Civilians, mostly, who cowered and hid or ran when the pair walked by, and a mercenary cutthroat or two who didn't present much of a problem. No traps in the basement, either. Just a series of rooms for things like droid maintenance, torture, food preparation (who puts those beside each other?), a lounge, a nursery-

"Oh, hello," Aqura said, stopping at the nursery.

Warmth wafted out of the room, eggs and baby animals in cages lining the long room. At the opposite side from the door was a massive egg, about half the size of a human torso, in a fancy-looking incubator. A very familiar egg, white with brown dappling.

A man near the incubator spotted them, and yelled.

Aqura shot him twice in the chest, then one more time after he fell.

Then she went back to staring at the egg.

Before she stepped into the room, though, Mako interrupted. "Uh, Mandokarla? We've got somewhere to be, remember?"

Aqura nodded absently.

"As in, now," Mako insisted, grabbing Aqura's shoulder and pulling.

The mandalorian let out a pitiful whine that even the vocal scrambler couldn't make sound intimidating, but she let herself be dragged away.

A few rooms down, Mako signaled. Inside the room sat a woman in grimy white clothes, chained to a chair, sitting at a table filled with datapads.

"Hut'uun," Aqura cursed at Fa'athra, wherever he was. "That's her, isn't it?"

Mako nodded. She looked as troubled as Aqura felt.

"C'mon." Aqura led the way into the room. The woman started, then turned slowly, lethargically, to look at them.

When she realized they weren't Fa'athra's goons, she leapt out of her chair and threw her hands out before her. No doubt she would have tried to run or hide, too, if her leg hadn't been manacled to the chair she'd been sitting in.

"Stay back! I've got a..." she trailed off, one hand patting the table behind her and finding nothing but a datapad. She held it up, dazed and despairing. "a… Well, I guess I don't have much of anything. Please… don't hurt me anymore."

"Mako," Aqura said softly, "check her. Injuries, tech, anything. I doubt the tech even exists on this mudball for a subdermal tracking chip, but we can't be sure."

Mako stepped forward and took a med scanner from her belt. The moment she moved, the scientist shrank in on herself, then clenched her teeth and tried to stand up straight. Her hands balled into fists, but they also dug into her stomach, held as close to her body as possible.

Aqura turned to watch the door. Behind her, Mako was talking softly.

"You're Doctor Albea, right? You've been here for twenty-two days?"

"Yes… yes! That's me. You know who I am? Are you here to rescue me?"

Aqura had to blink quickly at the hope in Doctor Albea's voice. She swallowed, shifted her grip on her gun, and kept her eyes on the doorway as best she could. Rarsk would be here soon.

Albea was just bait.

"I… well..." Mako's voice trailed off, and Aqura could feel the girl's eyes on her.

Albea was just bait.

She was a Republic scientist, who had nothing to do with the Empire, the hutts, or the Mandalorians.

A scientist who'd been kidnapped, taken from her family to a planet made of misery, tortured, and chained up in a room in a hutt's basement.

Aqura grit her teeth.

Just bait.

"Oh," Albea said in a voice that cracked with despair. "I see. I-"

"Yes," Aqura snapped, blinking again. "We're here to rescue you."

Mako sighed in relief and Albea gasped in wonder.

Osik, that hurt to hear.

Twenty-two days to reduce a doctor to this.

Aqura really hated hutts.

"Mako," she said. "How is she?"

"Malnourished, dehydrated, bruised. Here, Doc. It's not great, but it's fuel. Anything that let's you put one foot in front of the other, right?"

Wasn't that the truth?

"Alright," she said. "Mako, watch the door, will you?"

"Uh, alright, boss."

Mako stepped up beside Aqura and leveled her pistol at the door. In turn, Aqura holstered hers and turned to face Doctor Albea.

The doctor flinched as Aqura's first step clacked on the ground. Not much, but some.

"Ganar mirjahaal, Bea. Gar morut'yc," Aqura crooned softly. It came out in a sinister, scrambled into something inhuman by Mako's device.

Except Albea didn't look scared. Instead, she looked confused and a little interested. "That's Mando'a," she said. "You're a Mandalorian. Why are you helping me?"

Slowly, carefully, Aqura reached down to her belt and pulled out a tiny flask, barely more than a few mouthfuls' size. Holding it out to the doctor, she said, "here. Take it. It's not much, but it'll keep you on your feet a few more minutes."

Albea reached out hesitantly and Aqura pushed the flask into her hands.

"What is it?"

The mandalorian laughed. "It's just water, Bea. I don't get drunk on the job!"

Doctor Albea ducked her head and hunched her shoulders, but a hint of a smile came to her lips.

"Mako and me," Aqura explained, edging closer, "we were street kids growing up. We spent a lot of our lives trying to avoid exactly what you've been though." She knelt down by the other woman's leg. "I'm going to get you free, but I've got to use a blade to do it. If you need to look away, that's alright. There's no shame in wanting to be away from suffering."

Flask emptied, Albea shook her head. "No. I- it's alright. Go ahead."

"Alright. Don't move, alright? It's just going to pop out of my left gauntlet, and you'll be free in a second."

Very carefully, Aqura closed her fist, put it flat against the chain holding Bea to the chair, as close to the doctor's leg as was safe, and then, with a careful twitch-

 _shk_ - _shink-_

The blade punched straight through the chain as if nothing had been there.

Bea stepped away, shaking slightly, and let out a shuddering breath.

"I'm free?"

Aqura stood and raised a finger. "Not for another few minutes, actually. Somebody we don't like is coming after you." She reached over, took hold of the table with all its datapads, and pulled it over onto its side. "You and Mako should get behind this. Play cards or something. I'll handle this."

"Very funny," Mako shot back. "No way this fight's happening without me."

Albea, on the other hand, crawled over the table to hide.

Aqura took up a position near the door. "Fine."

Mako backed up from the door and headed for the table, leaving Aqura to stare after her. Once the street urchin had clambered over, she met Aqura's surprised gaze and shrugged. "What? Like I'm going to say no to cover in a firefight."

And, for the first time since agreeing to bring Mako along on this mission, Aqura smiled. Then she turned back to the door and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

"Why isn't he here yet?" she grumbled.

"Boss," Mako replied, "it's been just over ten minutes. How close did you think we were cutting this?"

"Close enough we wouldn't have to deal with Fa'athra's guards before Rarsk showed up. Where are they, anyway?"

A sort of hissing, snarling sound came from outside the doorway, and a trandoshan came around the corner, holding a blaster pistol on Aqura.

Good old beskar'gam. Big, shiny, nigh-invulnerable target.

"You're Rarsk, right?"

The trandoshan stopped in front of Aqura and said something else in that snarly, hissy speech he had.

"I think he's speaking," Aqura said. "Mako, you catch any of that?"

"Uh, well, I don't actually speak trandoshan," Mako admitted. "Doc?"

"I'm afraid not, Mako," Bea replied. She actually seemed sad about it.

Aqura just shrugged. "Doesn't matter anyway. Rarsk? Make you a deal: give us the Great Hunt token and leave, and we'll let you live. Dinuir mhi Kote Oya'karir to meshurok bal ba'slanar, gar oyacyir."

Rarsk snarled something that didn't sound friendly. Unfriendly, and nothing like agreement.

So Aqura shot him.

Or would have. He was a lot faster than the rodian from the other day. He dodged and fired, two shots scattering on Aqura's chestplate. Then he dove in close.

"Aq- Mandokarla!"

The room had datapads, a chair bolted to the floor, and a table. Nothing else. Nothing for the resident slave to interact with.

Alright. Plain hand-to-hand it was.

Rarsk swiped with clawed hands that scraped on Aqura's beskar'gam. Then he punched with the hand holding his blaster. Aqura blocked it, almost unnecessarily.

It was only at the last instant that she realized where the gun was pointed. She managed to twist her arm and neck just enough that the shot glanced off her helmet instead of hitting her unarmoured neck.

Osik, this guy was good.

Twice more, a shot nearly took Aqura in an unarmoured joint, and she had to drop her pistol just to keep up properly. Naturally, she kept up a stream of swearing to accompany each hit and block.

It was the gunk in the joints. She just wasn't as fast as she should be. At her best, the trandoshan's jaw would have been in three pieces on the floor after a second or two. Now, she just-

Sweep up, blocking another blaster shot. Kick, miss, skip forward with an elbow to the sternum, try to get Rarsk in between herself and Mako.

"Ah!"

He headbutted her! In her helmet!

And it worked. While she was busy being surprised, he grabbed her arm and brought his pistol up, trying to get an angle on her neck.

Mako fired wildly, and Rarsk pivoted to get Aqura in between them again.

"Shoot him!" Aqura yelled, kicking with her knees, missing, then aborting a grab that Rarsk almost turned around on her.

"I can't! I don't want to hit you!"

His balance really was amazing. Shame he had to die. Maybe there was somebody else she could learn trandoshan fighting techniques-

 _pew pew_

Quit it with the blaster already!

She pivoted in, tried to get a grab and break the shabuir's arm, but he shifted the angle with a hop and sweep that took her in the back of the knee with a taloned foot. Suddenly, she was kneeling in front of a man with a pistol.

Osik.

"The door! Get him to the door!"

Whatever that meant, she was game.

Aqura rolled, throwing off Rarsk's aim and balance, then shot up with an uppercut that would have done Buir Denn proud. Aqura was thrilled until she realized she'd forgotten to extend her vibroblade for the kill. She made do by following through with a chop to the throat while Rarsk was stunned.

He lowered that snout of his in record time and took the hit right across his jaw. Still must have hurt, but he just kept coming.

Ah, rangir!

Aqura ducked her head, too, and charged. It was a brawler's move, with no finesse, nothing like the teras kasi she'd been using up to now. It was a gamble that, maybe, he wouldn't expect it.

It was also a move with no possible follow-through.

As she charged forward, blind, two powerful hands came down on her back, throwing her off balance. Her legs collapsed under her and she fell.

Rarsk was already shooting, even as he fell backwards into the doorway. A shot spattered on Aqura's stomach, then her chest, then-

The door closed.

No, the door slammed closed. Hard. So hard it took Rarsk's head and shoulders with it.

"Me'ven..." Aqura gasped, catching her breath. "What sort of idiot designs a door that does that?"

"Somebody who really wants to keep somebody else in or out," Mako guessed.

"That was..." Bea trailed off.

"Awesome? Incredible? Exhilerating?"

Good word.

"Horrible." Bea glared at Mako, incredulous.

Kneeling down, Aqura pried Rarsk's pistol out of his hand, gave it a once-over, then tossed it to Mako. "Give Bea the other one," she recommended. "Rarsk had a pretty good one you might like, and the doc needs something, just in case." Then she grabbed the Great Hunt token out of Rarsk's pocket.

Before Mako handed her pistol over, Aqura added, "put the safety on first, though. You can shoot, right, Bea?"

Doctor Albea stared at the pistol for a second. Then her expression hardened. "I could learn," she said coldly.

"Not today, if we can help it," Aqura said. "Keep the safety on unless I tell you otherwise. Mako, can you open the door?"

"Oh, right."

The door slid open and Aqura stepped gingerly over the body. There was a lot of blood, but it could have been worse. Death by chopped-in-half tended to cut off blood flow pretty rapidly.

"You'll have to tell me how you did that," Aqura commented as the doctor made her way out of the room and into the hall. "I'd rather not risk it happening to me. Ever."

The three walked up the hall in tense silence, but it seemed like there weren't any guards left at all. Something serious had happened to Fa'athra's palace, and most of it was probably Aqura, Mako, and Rarsk's fault.

All in all, a job well done today. Mako hadn't died, Bea would be fine after some counseling, Fa'athra had definitely had a bad day, even if they hadn't gotten the chance to kill him. They'd even gotten to see a couple of trandoshan martial arts techniques that Aqura was definitely going to be finding out more about later.

And…

Aqura paused outside of the nursery again, staring inside at the egg on the far side.

"Hey," she said, trying to sound offhand. "What're the odds you two know how to rig a portable incubator?"


	6. Dromund Kaas 1

Dromund Kaas.

Mako peered down the path from the spaceport. "Ah. It's so dark. I wonder what time it is here." Her eyelids flickered, then she sagged slightly. "Oh. Apparently it's always this gloomy. Lovely."

Aqura laughed and ran down the path. "Someday I'll take you somewhere nice, Sparks. Now, c'mon! It's a jungle! I need to check this out!"

Mako ran after the bounty hunter, who was already jogging up to some sort of Imperial checkpoint. She scowled and yelled after her friend, "don't call me Sparks!"

Aqura laughed harder.

"One time!" Mako yelled, pumping her arms and legs to catch up. "One time they sparked!"

"They've got gundarks," the armoured woman called after a few seconds, ignoring the stares of both the soldier she was talking to and Mako herself. "This'll be fun."

It would be. See how Mako felt when they took down one of the biggest predators to be found on a planet like this, together. Well, more together than on Hutta. That had been fun, but a really bizarre sort of teamwork.

Mako's methods of helping were actually pretty interesting. She always seemed to know whatever they needed to know, and electronics were suddenly the most useful thing around, no matter the fight. Though that really ruled out the jungle as a great place to bring Mako, now she thought about it.

The forest rose up around them, the trees looming as oppressively as the clouds overhead, but Aqura practically danced through it, anyway. She felt so free here, after Hutta. No sucking mud, no sickly-green sky, no locals filled with despair or hate or fear.

"So," Mako asked when she'd caught up, "is this a thing with you? Running off into jungles?"

It almost made Aqura stop and stare at the girl, but instead she forged ahead, eyes out for any wild beasts. Distractedly, she asked, "aren't you excited? Stay close, by the way. If a sleen takes you by surprise, I need you close enough that I can kill it before it kills you."

"Those are not two things you say together!" Mako's eyes flickered again, and she continued, "I don't want to fight a sleen! Forty kilometers an hour? Through trees?! Why aren't we just taking a speeder? You barely survived the last time you fought a gundark!"

"The last time _we_ fought a gundark," Aqura corrected her, "I was trapped in an arena without my blaster, carbonite spray, flamethrower, or jetpack, and you were stuck on comms. And Hutta did awful stuff to my joints. It'll go much better this time."

She said the last part with a confident grin and practically ran down the overgrown dirt path. It felt good to have ground that wasn't moving, either because it was sludge or because it was a ship getting hammered by cannon-fire. Dark it might be, with looming trees and an eerie sense of foreboding, but at least Dromund Kaas was a solid place to stand.

"I don't want it to go better," Mako complained. "I don't want it to go at all! We'd probably be in the city already if we'd just taken a speeder. How do you know we aren't going to miss some ceremony or something? Our ship limped in way behind schedule."

"Yeah," Aqura agreed, "ship to ship combat will do that. At least we got away before the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order showed up. I'd like to try my hand at some easier targets first."

Mako went quiet, and so did Aqura. Together, they picked their way through the jungle, constantly turning their heads at strange new sounds coming through the trees, muffled by leaves and trunks and who knew what. They'd gone almost a kilometer into the jungle and were climbing up a hill before Mako said what they were both thinking.

"She was really young."

An image of a young twi'lek, short and pink-skinned with a fiercely determined look and a lightsaber to match, flashed violently into Aqura's mind. She didn't even try to shut it out. There wouldn't be any point. The girl wasn't somebody she'd ever forget.

Yadira Ban. Aqura had asked Mako the girl's name after the fight, because of course she'd forgotten. No, what she'd remembered was the light in the child's eyes, and how it had-

"Hey," Aqura called back, pointing down the side of the hill. Below them was a group of tents and a couple of dozen armoured figured shifting around. "Those look like Mandos. Let's go see."

Mako straggled behind while Aqura did her best not to tumble down the slick hillside in heavy beskar'gam, which would somehow manage to be more painful than it was embarrassing, if such a thing was possible.

"Why do I feel like I'm the one babysitting you?" Mako grumbled behind her.

Aqura laughed. Ahead of them were a pair of armed Mandalorians, both in full, blue beskar'gam. They cut pretty impressive figures, even dwarfed as they and their tents were by the jungle and hills around them.

It seemed like a weird place to set up camp. Sure, there were only two directions to approach from, but there was always the chance that an animal fell down the hills to either side of the camp and ended up in the middle of their tents. If that happened, there'd only be two directions to retreat, and that would split the camp.

Then again, it was a camp of Mandalorians. Retreat wouldn't be the first thing on their minds in the event of an attack.

"Su'cuy, vode!" Aqura called out, raising a hand to the two lookouts.

They raised their blasters at her, and she lowered her hand and moved slightly between them and Mako. "Halt," one of the Mandos said, "who goes there?"

"They don't seem too friendly," Mako whispered.

"Don't go for your blaster," Aqura whispered back. "We don't need a fight with a whole clan."

To the two scouts, she said, "udesii, ner vode. We're just on our way to Kaas City. We took a detour to-"

"You here to challenge Kregg?" asked the same one who'd spoken before.

He looked a little less ready to shoot them, so Aqura took the chance to trade a glance with Mako. Well, half a glance, since Mako couldn't see her face. Mako nodded a subtle, "go ahead," so Aqura tried her luck.

"Depends," she said, "who's Kregg?"

"WHO'S-" the second Mando cut off when the first one punched him in the shoulder. Aqura did her best not to laugh and Mako made some nervous noises.

The first Mandalorian didn't bring his fist back to his rifle, which was a good sign. Instead, he gestured back to the camp they were guarding. "Kregg is our leader. He's issued a challenge to all comers: defeat him and be rewarded a portion of the spoils of every previous, failed, challenger." He gave a laugh. "There have been… a few."

The second Mando snorted. "As if some random newcomer would be worth Kregg's notice-"

Again, the first man punched him. Then he cleared his throat and tilted his head. The second guy followed his gaze and, for a moment, they were both silent. Then they both stood aside and waved Aqura and Mako into the camp.

"Go on in, then," one of them said. "Good luck."

All this, and Aqura had never actually said she wanted to fight Kregg. Still, she walked past. She could use a chance to blow off some steam.

The tents in the camp were fairly small for the most part, except for an obvious meeting place that all the others surrounded and a slightly smaller armoury shelter beside it. Aqura headed straight for that. It seemed like the best guess, and better than asking one of the Mandalorians who kept glancing their way and then dismissing them.

Mako whispered as soon as they were out of earshot, "what was that? Why'd they let us through?"

Aqura's heart twisted and she let out a strangled sort of sigh. "Padawan Ban's lightsaber. Kyr'jetii tend to get respect."

"Except you didn't-"

"I might as well have," Aqura snapped, then relented. "Sorry. Look, it doesn't matter, really. The point is, I could have, and I figure that's good enough if they think it is. I want to give this a shot."

She heard Mako's hand slide onto her shoulder, and Mako said, "you know violence doesn't solve every problem, right?"

Aqura tried to laugh, but it was feeble and died quickly. "It does if you use enough," she said. Then she put a hand on a console in the middle of the meeting tent and called, "I'm here to challenge Kregg."

The sound of the challenge echoed across speakers all across the camp.

The atmosphere changed so quickly it was like making planetfall. All of a sudden there were Mandalorians everywhere, in a circle as wide as an arena, surrounding the tent entrance. The circle parted, a clattering sea of beskar parting for one man.

Kregg was a big man with beskar'gam of a similar style to Aqura's. It was a blue that looked almost black in the dim Dromund Kaas light, but every lightning flash revealed it as a deep, matte sapphire. His face was weathered and grim, and he carried a massive autocannon slung across his back.

"Wow," Mako whispered. "That guy's big as that Sith."

Aqura shrugged. "It's mostly the armour," she lied over the sound of chanting Mandalorians. The man was definitely big. He looked like he could rip the arms off a gundark.

She stepped forward, out of the tent and into the arena.

Kregg stopped in front of her and looked her up and down. "You're my newest challenger, then? Heard you're a kyr'jetii. That's a start."

Aqura suppressed a wince. "So what are the conditions?"

"Simple," the man rumbled, "to death or yield. Any weapons, any tricks are allowed. Both you and your vod may challenge me, if you wish."

Any tricks. Kregg didn't look like the sort of man who relied on trickery, but looks were often deceptive. Aqura looked around at the ring of Mandalorians, the tents that surrounded them, and the trees and hills that surrounded those. "We fight here? Why hasn't this place been destroyed by that cannon you've got?"

Kregg gave a grin that would have been right at home on the face of a Krayt dragon. "The fights don't last long enough for that."

Oh, this was going to be fun. Aqura grinned and nodded. "Mako, you want in?" she tilted her head back to her friend.

"Nuh-uh."

Aqura turned to see Mako with hands raised defensively. "Hey," the slicer said, "I didn't ask for this. We're supposed to be at the Great Hunt ceremony, and you wanted to go gundark-hunting. Prize money or no, I'd rather we just walk and get back after Blood."

There was a murmuring throughout the ring of the arena, men and women repeating that last name.

"C'mon, Mako. We're partners, and we could use the credits. Besides, it'll be done faster if you help me out."

Mako scowled and turned to Kregg. Her brow furrowed, then her eyes flickered for a second, and she said, "no. You're here to blow off steam. If I help out, the fight won't last long enough for a warm-up."

The gathered Mandalorians roared. Some laughed, some shouted obscenities, some just congratulated Mako on her guts.

Kregg laughed, too. "So, you're going after Blood, huh?" He pounded his fists together and grinned that vicious grin. "Can't say I'll enjoy doing him a favour, but at least you aim high, beroya. Alright, ad'ika, get out of the ring if you don't want a piece of this."

Mako did exactly that. She scrambled out of the arena and up to one of the Mandalorians on the edge, probably to ask where she could take cover. She didn't really need to watch, after all. With those implants, every helmet cam in the area was open to her.

Maybe that's what she meant. Aqura could just imagine Kregg's armour shutting down and leaving him with seventy kilos of armour and no hydraulics. Then again, he looked big enough to move even with that handicap.

Mako was right. He looked just as big as that Sith from the Black Talon.

Armour and thunder crashed and the arena filled with the chants of Mandalorian voices. Kregg settled his cannon into place and yelled over the noise, "ready when you are, beroya!"

Aqura was ready. She'd landed on the Dromund Kaas feeling ready.

She drew at the next flash of lightning, and the fight began.

She fell into the fight like she hadn't done since she was a child, since she last needed to escape into a world where she could have revenge like she needed it. Maybe it was insane that it was another Sith she was focusing on, maybe it was just the nature of the Empire.

Another Sith she was fighting in her mind, another twi'lek she was protecting.

She couldn't say how she avoided the cannonfire, just that it was no more dangerous than the blinding lightning she envisioned, and no less swift. She strained her armour with hydraulic-powered lunges, jet-propelled leaps, and, when she made a mistake, a cannon round straight to the chest. Inevitably, though, she closed the distance.

She got close enough to see his smug, sneering red face, his perfect hair, the gold jewelry that matched blazing gold eyes. He punched with an arm the size of her torso – no, Kregg swung his cannon, trying to get some distance.

Either way, she responded similarly. Her vibroblade came out and carved through the offending bludgeon, gouging a hole the size of her wrist into the device, and deep enough to punch from shoulder to heart on any humanoid.

Then the cannon hit her like a train, knocking the air from her lungs and sending her sprawling across the dirt arena. She managed to twist up onto her hands and feet after the first couple of meters, then struggled to stand and get air in her lungs at the same time.

The Sith drew his lightsaber. Aqura hated that thing. Not that he'd used it to kill Yadira, obviously. He'd had his slave do that for him; another twi'lek with a pair of blasters, more afraid of her master than she was of a Jedi padawan.

The image in Aqura's mind fractured again, too similar now to what it she wanted it to be. All the little imperfections piled up in her mind. There was no twi'lek slave, Kregg wielded a vibroblade instead of a lightsaber, he moved with less grace than the Sith and moved to attack instead of to wear her down. In her mind, the two men diverged again. The Sith Lord charged Yadira, smug sneer firmly upon his face and lightsaber raised in a way that was more threatening than dangerous. Kregg charged Aqura, desperate to close the distance now that he'd lost his cannon, determined to use his strength to his advantage.

A part of Aqura pushed her to attack first, like she should have done with the Sith. The other part, the smarter part, the one that had gotten young Yadira Ban killed, said to stay back and watch how things played out. After all, it didn't exactly pay to attack her employer, and maybe the padawan stood a chance.

Aqura charged Kregg with a roar that filled her helmet and drowned out the thunder, and she made her first mistake.

She raised her gauntlet vibroblade to block Kregg's attack. When it hit, her arm slammed down into her face, barely slowing the blade down. The blade hit with more of a thud than anything else, and Aqura's helmet rocked back, followed by her head and then her body, and she fell backwards into the dirt.

Kregg stood above her, his blade glinted with a flash of lightning as it swung for her lightly-armoured throat.

The Sith had done something similar to that child, and Aqura had watched dumbly, so unable to comprehend what she was seeing that she hadn't reacted in time. It wasn't as if she didn't understand. Sith weren't known for their mercy. Osik, Aqura would kill in cold blood if it came down to it. But a child?

The flash of the blade made its path obvious. Aqura raised her hand, steadied her hydraulics, and braced herself as the blade glanced off her forearm and vibroblade. Then, with her right hand, she shot Kregg in the foot.

Most soldiers swore. Most Mandalorians could give lectures on the art. Kregg, apparently, was a master of the trade. Aqura had enough time to kick up and spring backwards away from Kregg while he taught her a whole new level of vocabulary.

That was enough. It was time to finish the Sith– to finish Kregg off. A few well-placed blaster bolts should do it.

A blue glow surrounded Kregg and the shots splattered against it.

Energy shield.

Aqura tried out one of the curse words Kregg had just taught her.

The big Mandalorian didn't even bother charging. He just walked forward, knowing Aqura had nowhere to run.

She stood her ground, like she should have done on the Black Talon.

It didn't make her feel any better. It didn't mean anything, acting too late to save someone.

Mako, at the edge of the arena, caught her attention. She was tapping the side of her head meaningfully.

Aqura shook her head. No cheating. She had that much. Mako rolled her so exaggeratedly that Aqura saw it even from the middle of the arena. Then the girl turned slightly and tapped the small of her back with her thumb.

Kregg lunged in before Aqura could figure out what that was about. What happened next was a flurry of swipes by Kregg and dodges by Aqura. With his energy shield and beskar'gam, it would take a physical attack to Kregg's head to do any damage, until his power source ran out. Depending on his tech, that could take minutes.

It must have been exactly like the padawan felt, fighting an unstoppable force, wondering when Mako or Aqura or the twi'lek, Vette, would step in and just end the so-called fight. Maybe she was like Aqura, confident until the last instant, or maybe it had been nothing but determination or honour that kept her fighting. Maybe she'd been like Mako, fighting as a means to an end, or like uncle Krenn, who'd only fought because his family needed him.

Aqura ducked a swing of Kregg's vibroblade, throwing out a kick that did nothing but push her off balance as she passed.

What she was really angry about was that. The not knowing was eating her up inside. The injustice of Yadira's death, guilt over not having done anything to stop it, fear that something like it would happen to Mako, none of it was the same as the sense that something important was lost forever.

Children shouldn't fight in wars. They hadn't done enough to be remembered properly.

Aqura's eyes caught something through the blue shield. There! There, right where Mako had been pointing, was a small embedded canister and a tiny cluster of wires. Probably something to do with the energy shield. Whatever it was, though, it looked important.

So Aqura went for it. The next time Kregg attacked, she deflected his blade, sidestepped his punch, and dashed behind him. As before, he turned around slowly, confident in his invincibility. He was quick enough that he nearly deflected her fist, but she hit the small of his back with a glancing blow in time to dive backwards out of his sword's range. His energy shield flickered out, and she raised her blaster.

"Let's try that again." Aqura put three bolts into Kregg's right shoulder before he even realized what had happened. Then she put another five in his right shoulder, hopefully enough to do some damage through the weak joint armour.

Apparently it was, because Kregg stumbled and gave Aqura the opening she needed. She stepped forward, sidestepped, and kicked hard into the back of his knee, then used her jetpack to give herself the leverage to kick with her other leg and spin him over to fall on his back.

She was on top of him before he hit the ground and her vibroblade barely retracted in time for her to put her fist under his chin without slitting his throat.

For a moment, the Sith glared back at her, golden eyes filled with nothing but superiority. Then she blinked and it was just the hard, dark face of a seasoned Mandalorian.

Before she could open her mouth, he roared, "finish it!"

"Just yield," she told him.

Kregg reached his arms up and grabbed both her biceps. "Finish it or I rip your arms off."

Aqura activated her vibroblade one more time, stabbing it through Kregg's throat and up into his skull. Kregg's hands fell away from her arms.

"Di'kut," she grumbled, then stood up and called for somebody to get her her prize money.

"This stuff kinda just happens to you, doesn't it?"

Aqura glanced at Mako, who'd snuck up in the clatter of armour and needless congratulations going on in the aftermath. Then she followed the girl's gaze to Kregg's body, and shrugged. "Some people have a story that needs ending. Ah-" Her hand tapped her left hip.

Mako glanced at the lightsaber resting there and nodded. "Some people's stories end too soon. I get it. If you're not going to let it go, you should know that you can't send that thing from Dromund Kaas. We'd be better off getting to neutral space and finding a smuggler. Think you can wait that long?"

Aqura closed her eyes. The scene on the Black Talon flashed on her eyelids. The Jedi girl standing in front of a man-mountain with a lightsaber, a full-armoured Mando, and two well-armed girls, knowing she was going to die, and fighting anyway. The fight, short as it was. Then Yadira, with two scorch marks in her chest, on the ground in front of that Sith. Then, in a red flash, she was dead.

After she'd been quiet for too long, Mako offered, "if you really want to hunt the guy down, I can help with that, too. I've got your back. It's just that we might want to keep a tally of how many people we're planning revenge against."

A Mandalorian ran up to them and Mako collected their prize credits from them. As she stepped forward, Aqura glanced at the small of her back.

"Got your back," she mumbled, and flashed a grin nobody saw. Then she put a hand on Mako's shoulder and said, "c'mon, partner. Let's get to Kaas city."

"No gundarks?"

"No gundarks. I've had enough killing for today."


	7. Dromund Kaas 2

Everything was grey on Dromund Kaas. The towering, spired buildings were drab. The grim people walking the streets were ashen-faced. Even Aqura's usually-bright armour looked grey! It was like one of those bad holos.

As for the city itself, the buildings weren't as tall, the streets as crowded, or the city as big as Nar Shadaa's planet-spanning metropolis, but it felt so much more oppressive here. The constant swell and fade of thunder overhead gave the unsettling impression that the world itself was ready to attack. Where Nar Shadaa was filled with lights of every colour, Dromund Kaas barely lit its overcast streets enough to see by with its pitiful monochrome streetlights. The streets might be crowded, but a painful sort of order kept anybody from getting in another person's way. A pickpocket's nightmare.

"Right, out of the way! Mandalorian coming through." A clanking sound woke Mako from her reverie, and she looked down to see Aqura- that was, Mandokarla – stomping forward through an orderly line of pedestrians.

The sound was surprising. It hadn't even occurred to Mako before now that Mandokarla never moved loudly. She'd started out with a noticeably muffled step, and by the time they'd left Vaiken Spacedock, it was hard to notice her over the babble of a crowd. Not now, though. Now, she clanked forward with the sort of slow and ominous motion that reminded Mako of the more insecure street toughs from her childhood.

It sure worked, though. Men and women cried out, running left and right to get out of her way. Then they just sort of… stopped. On Nar Shadaa, there would have been yelling and fist-shaking. On Hutta, somebody would have drawn a gun. Here, they all just sort of ground to a halt as soon as they were definitely out of the Mandalorian's way.

Mako dashed to catch up before the line pulled itself back together again.

The same thing happened twice more before they got to the nearest taxi stand to the city entrance, and by then Mako noticed something else: they weren't the only ones plowing through the order of the city. Here and there, a black-robed Sith would periodically throw a walkway into disarray by walking where nobody expected. Maybe it was a way of life here.

That made Mako feel a lot more guilty about what her partner was doing. It wasn't right, scaring everyone just so they could get what they wanted.

Mandokarla didn't seem to notice. She just pulled Mako onto a speeder and took the pair of them to the Mandalorian Enclave. She didn't seem to notice a lot of things. In a fight, it was like her mind went twice as fast as anyone else's, and Mako had seen her do things that wouldn't have occurred to the young slicer in years of fighting. When the fight was over, though, it was like Mandokarla switched off her brain. She just did whatever occurred to her first. Like how they'd grabbed that ridiculous rancor egg, coming out of Fa'athra's palace. Or those arguments she'd gotten into with that Sith on the Black Talon, like she had no idea the guy was seconds from taking her head off with that lightsaber of his.

Mako's sigh was swept away in the wind, and she looked over to see the Mandalorian grinning so hard that Mako imagined she could see it through the armour.

It wasn't that she disliked the bounty hunter. It was just that Mako missed Braden and Jory. They'd been her family for so long, and suddenly… suddenly _everything_! Her life was inside out, upside down, and back-to-front.

Braden would have known what to say. He was always good about putting things in perspective. He'd've given her that smile of his and said something like, "Mako, you can mourn and hunt at the same time. Doesn't mean we mattered any less."

Except it felt like it did.

Worse, it felt like Mandokarla…

She put it out of her mind. It didn't matter.

They landed on the other side of some unnatural chasm, right in front of the Mandalorian Enclave. It wasn't anything impressive, just another big, spired building beside another big, spired building. At least Kaas had a theme going.

The map of the area spread out in her mind's eye, and she took the lead, dragging Mandokarla behind her and into what she hoped was the right place. Somewhere in the enclave was whatever passed for administration for Mandalorians, and they'd find it before some sort of deadline tore the whole thing away from them.

Somewhere around here, there had to be somebody who knew what was going on.

A voice barked out somewhere ahead. "Quiet! Quiet, you dogs! The Huntmaster is about to speak. Pay attention and show some respect for once in your lives."

Mako grabbed Mandokarla's hand and pulled her down the hall as fast as they could go. They made it into the back of a room filled with hunters just as an incredible white wookiee, tall even by their race's standards, stepped forward and started speaking. Mako opened up a translator protocol in one of her implants, and a synthesized voice in her head spoke Basic over the Huntmaster's growls and roars.

"The Great Hunt is upon us!" The wookiee roared. Those few hunters who hadn't already gone silent, did. "Many will hunt. Many will die. All will win glory and honour!"

A voice that wasn't quiet enough whispered, "what's he saying?"

Mako tried to shush her partner without making any sound, but she also linked her translation to Mandokarla's helmet, just to be nice.

"Today, we have too many hunters," the Huntmaster growled. "All must compete. Only one joins the Great Hunt!"

That was that. The enormously tall and hairy guy retreated and sat down at his desk, and his human assistant went back to barking instructions. "You heard the Huntmaster! You're competing for the last spot in the Great Hunt by taking down three bounties on Dromund Kaas."

One of the other hunters said exactly what Mako was thinking. "You expect us to hunt here? With Imperials crawling all over us? And Sith?"

Mandokarla barked a laugh that managed to sound both sincere and sinister through her voice synthesizer. "If they scare you," she chuckled, pointing two fingers at the man, "shoot first."

Mako couldn't help but smile at that. It was good advice, after all. Still, the smile fell away quickly at the idea of fighting somebody like that Xel'zex character they'd met on the way to Dromund Kaas.

Shoot first, she thought, nodding.

"For all you overblown, useless, no-talent cowards," barked the Huntmaster's assistant, "we installed a handy exit door. Use it now."

Mandokarla's laugh cut short as several hunters promptly turned and left the room. She managed to give Mako an incredulous look that was returned with a shrug.

"The rest of you – the real hunters – go see your handlers. They'll get you oriented to the planet and assign you three unique bounties. Everyone who takes down all three of their bounties wins a spot in the final melee. Anyone who doesn't get all three is out."

Most of the hunters were already leaving before the last of the instructions were finished, but a couple stayed a few moments longer, Mako and Mandokarla included.

Their handler. That was supposed to be Braden. He should have been the one to show them around, introduce them to the Huntmaster, tell them where to go and who to hunt. Instead, it was going to be someone neither of them had ever met.

Mako wasn't stupid. She'd known they'd need one, had even made sure they'd have one when they arrived, some old friend of Braden's willing to give them a shot. She should feel grateful.

A soft clang of metal on metal pierced Mako's thoughts, and she looked up to see Mandokarla lowering her arms from where she'd just knocked them together.

The Huntmaster growled, "you know what you need to, hunter."

His assistant opened his mouth to speak, but Mandokarla interrupted him. "Not really. I want to know if we have to choose me or my partner for the final melee, or if we can fight together."

The look the gruff human gave Mako said exactly how intimidating she seemed to him, especially compared with a fully-armoured Mandalorian, but Mandokarla stepped closer to Mako stood tall. The woman looked right at the Huntmaster and ignored the look his assistant was giving them. Mako tried to stand a little straighter and give the Huntmaster a look she'd learned as a kid on Nar Shadaa, the one that warned she was more dangerous than she seemed.

The Huntmaster just nodded and said, "teams fight together."

Mandokarla nudged Mako with her shoulder and whispered, "oya." Then, louder, she said, "vor'e, Oy'alor. See you at the melee!"

The other translator program Mako had running translated for her, "thanks, Hunt-leader," which she supposed was pretty obvious.

She'd started up the program shortly after that first hunt with Mandokarla. The hunter seemed to switch to Mando'a whenever she got excited, or wanted to emphasize something, or was talking to another Mandalorian, or about another Mandalorian, or… the list went on and on. A translator had been mandatory.

Mandokarla hadn't even seemed to notice when Mako started responding to her frequent bouts of Mando'a.

The pair turned and left the room, though to where, Mako wasn't sure.

Turned out, she didn't have to wait long to find out. Moments after they reached a small combat practice room, a short woman with a strikingly red mohawk and a knowing grin swooped down on them.

"Hey there, sweetie," she said, putting a hand on Mako's shoulder and pulling her to the side of the room. "You must be Mako."

Mandokarla was beside them in an instant, on hand very close to her blaster. In a synthesized growl, she asked, "need something from my partner, ba'vodu?"

The woman laughed, but took her hand off Mako's shoulder. "Aunt?" she asked, grinning wider. "I'm not quite that old, cyar'ika. Name's Crysta. Crysta Markon. I'm a friend of Braden's. Sweetie here got in touch and said you needed a hand. I figured I'd do him one last favour, y'understand."

There were a couple of tense seconds, then Mandokarla stepped forward and wrapped Crysta Markon in a full hug. Crysta looked as surprised as Mako felt.

"Any friend of Braden's is aliit to me," Mandokarla murmured, ignoring the stares of other hunters all around the room. "Welcome to the team, ba'vodu."

Mako's heart clenched, but she grit her teeth and watched. When Markon finally pulled away, smiling indulgently, Mako took a small step away, just in case she got pulled into something similar.

"Well," Markon laughed, "you'd better be careful how much you do that, cyar'ika. Can't get much of a reputation as a bloodthirsty killer that way."

Mandokarla just shrugged and laughed. "I'll get plenty of reputation when we win the Great Hunt. Right, Mako?"

The young slicer started, unsure at suddenly being included in the conversation. Luckily, before she had to manage more than a stiff nod, Markon started walking away, beckoning for the two of them to follow.

"C'mon, you two. We gotta see what… whoa." She pulled up short, squinting at her datapad and pressing a few buttons on it. Then she started walking again, slower, into a vacant room. Still fiddling with the pad, she glanced back at them and asked, "you got enemies among the mandalorians or something?"

For some reason, Mandokarla didn't answer that, so Mako said, "Yes. Tarro Blood, the man who killed Braden." She almost tried to access the datapad with her implants, but decided she didn't want Markon knowing she could do things like that. With a touch of venom, she asked, "what did he do?"

The older woman's face in a sort of resigned pity, and she turned the datapad to Mako. "I wouldn't wish this bounty on anybody," she said. "Gotta play the hand you're dealt, though."

Mako skimmed the information, and almost snapped when Markon started talking while she was still reading. "The targets a Republic noble, name of Altaca. He got captured during a Republic raid, brought back here and sold into slavery by mistake."

"Good," Mako replied, still half-reading the pad. "Galaxy's a better place with a few nobles cut down to size."

An armoured gauntlet rested gently on Mako's shoulder. Mandokarla's voice was soft as she said, "you wouldn't say that if you knew how Imperials treat slaves. It makes the Hutt standards look like nobility."

That made Mako pause, but then she realized it had to be exaggeration, and she ignored it. "Says here there was a construction project out in the jungle, but a slave rebellion shut the whole thing down."

"Now nobody can get in here," Markon finished, interrupting her. "We don't even know if he's still alive. If he is, the family will pay big."

"And if he's not," Mako finished, shrugging, "small loss. Bit of a pay drop. I've got the coordinates, so we can go."

"Wait-"

"Now, hold up."

Mako looked back at her "partners," both of whom she'd just about left behind in her haste to get away from the mohawked handler.

Crysta Markon stared at Mako, a frustrating look of concern on her face. Mandokarla was looking back and forth between the two of them.

"Do you have some sort of problem with me, sweetie? Cuz I say we should have it out now, if there's going to be trouble."

"No problem," Mako lied. "I'll get the job done. Anything else?"

Markon stared at her for a few seconds, then said, "yeah." She walked away to pick something up off a table, then tossed it to Mako. It was a bracer of some kind, with a fuel pack and nozzle attached. "That there's the S86k full-gauge carbonite spray gauntlet. Charge, point, freeze. Hunter's best friend. Won't do much but give a man frostbite in a fight, so make sure you've got the target sitting still if you want to bring him home."

Mako looked at the bracer, then at Markon, unsure of what she should be feeling. Slowly, carefully, she put the contraption on. It was bulkier than she'd like, and bunched up her clothing uncomfortably. It would be useful, though.

Mandokarla raised her left arm. "Now we match."

Mako smirked. On her arm, the S86k looked like an incredibly ugly and oversized bracelet, doubling the size of her arm with its grey and blocky metal. On Mandokarla, the whole contraption was forged seamlessly into her armour alongside the flamethrower and behind the vibroblade. It all fit into a golden, sleek set on her arm.

"Here, we can fix that, sweetie." A pair of hands grabbed Mako's arm, and she jerked away, stepping back from a surprised Crysta Markon. Markon also stepped away, hands up in surrender. "Alright," she said in a patronizing voice. "Don't get worked up, I was just making sure the thing was comfortable. No point having it if you're going to take it off in ten minutes."

Mako frowned, but the S86k was already starting to chafe, so she stuck her arm out. Rather than Markon, though, Mandokarla stepped forward, put a hand lightly on the older woman's shoulder, and said, "I'll handle this. Vor'e, ba'vodu. If you can get us any more info on the rescue mission, I'd appreciate it. Maybe a recording of Altaca's family, so we don't have to freeze him?"

Markon nodded, gave Mako one last look, then left without a word.

Mandokarla didn't say anything as she fiddled with Mako's bracer. She just quietly took the device in her hand, loosened it and adjusted the clothing underneath, then snugged it back up again. Then she took off her gloves and put two fingers each at Mako's wrist and the inside of her upper arm. After a few seconds, she nodded and put her gloves back on.

"We're done, then?" Mako asked, quietly glad she hadn't had to talk until now. "Can we get to the hunt?"

"Ah," Mandokarla said, "no. Not just yet. There's some people I want to get in touch with, first."

"Who?"

"The family. Do you know where a holoterminal is in this place?"

She did, and honestly she was becoming pretty familiar with the enclave, with all the wandering around they were doing, but she didn't know whether she wanted to tell her partner. It would be a waste of time, and who knew if they had competition for this particular bounty? Besides, what was the point in talking to…

Mako closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn't mean that. She understood what Mandokarla was doing, even if it wasn't something she was used to.

"Alright," she said, pointing the way down yet another hall. They all looked the same. Couldn't Mandalorians decorate a bit? "This way. You can follow me."

It wasn't far to the right room, but it gave Mako time to think. She didn't like that much. She didn't like most of this place much.

No, that wasn't right. The place was fine. It was just that everything that had happened since she got to Dromund Kaas had felt off. And Mandokarla was unpredictable, running this way and that and going everywhere but after Tarro Blood!

Mako sighed and, for the tenth or twentieth time that day, tried to put it out of her mind.

The room they walked into was plain, like all the others in the Mandalorian Enclave. No pictures or decorations on the walls, no carpets or chandeliers, just a room with a few chairs and a table with a holocommunicator on it.

Mandokarla closed and locked the door behind them, and Mako stepped aside as she approached the holocom. This wasn't any of her business. She decided to occupy herself with researching the layout of Kaas City while Mandokarla took off her helmet and gloves, then leaned over the holocom and punched in a code.

"Mako."

There were a surprising number of monuments in Kaas City. Most of them referred to parts of Sith history Mako didn't even know about, but-

"Mako."

Mako looked up. The holocom was still flickering, waiting for a response, and Mandokarla was looking at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Come here," Mandokarla beckoned. A shape coalesced in the holo, a man with a sharp nose and long hair who honestly looked nothing like Mandokarla. He turned from the holo and yelled for others. Mandokarla spoke again, "I want you to meet them."

Mako didn't know what finally did it. Maybe it was the armoured man dragging a distracted woman into the holo view. Maybe it was the look in Mandokarla's stupidly brilliant blue eyes. Maybe it was the prospect of being asked to participate in wasting time before going after Tarro Blood.

Whatever it was, Mako ran. She slammed open the door and ran out of the enclave. She regretted it the instant she left the room, but she just couldn't make herself turn back. So she ran through the halls, ignoring all the weird looks and threatening glares, and even nearly bulldozed a devaronian Mandalorian getting into a taxi to the main city. None of it felt like it mattered. She just wanted to get away, so she chose the quickest path she could.

Admittedly, she didn't go far. Once she'd made it back to the main city, she mostly ran out of steam. Then the real misery set in.

All she was doing was wasting more time than they ever could have by talking with Mandokarla's family. She was alone in a city full of Sith and actively sabotaging her team's chances of entering the Great Hunt. Except she couldn't bring herself to face Mandokarla right now. Besides, she could handle herself in any city, after Nar Shadaa, and as much as she wanted to be back working on getting into the Great Hunt, she'd be more hindrance than help on the hunt right now.

So she went to a cantina.

She didn't exactly drown her sorrows. She was soon three drinks deep and two hours into researching everything she could find about Kaas City that wasn't hidden by censorship firewalls, and most of the stuff that was. Admittedly, she'd used the second drink as an excuse for that, but she was just fooling herself. The danger was giving her more of a buzz than the alcohol.

About two and a half hours in, she was trying to untangle some examples of legal nepotism that would have a hutt salivating – well, salivating more than usual – when a familiar voice asked, "mind some company?"

Mako looked up at two sapphire eyes, a scar, and charcoal-black hair. And… whoa. What a figure.

Mandokarla. Mako had never seen her without armour on. Well, sort of. Even when cleaning it, she seemed to keep a piece or two on just because, and then there was the underarmour suit. Now, though, Mandokarla was wearing a form-fitting golden shirt, tight black pants, and a black jacket that only managed to make the rest look more skintight by being loose.

Suddenly Mako was feeling self-conscious. She didn't have long to dwell on it, though, because Mandokarla sat down right next to her – belatedly, Mako realized she'd nodded – and asked, "do you feel like talking?"

She did, sort of. She just didn't know what to say. It was amazing how two hours could go by without any progress on that front. So, instead of saying anything about what was bothering her, she asked, "why aren't you wearing your armour?"

Mandokarla waved her hand vaguely towards the rest of the cantina. It came off jerky and sudden, and she seemed annoyed at it, so she repeated it more smoothly, saying, "nobody here to recognize me. Besides, Mandos aren't too welcome here. Too many Sith."

Mako started, looking up for the fourth time since she'd walked in and peering into the multicoloured lights. "There are Sith here?" Truth be told, she could see one or two people who looked pretty menacing and imperious, just like the one Sith she'd ever met before.

"Sure," Mandokarla replied, bobbing her head towards various people around the cantina. "Quite a few of them, looks like. You can tell by how they move."

"How they move?"

Mandokarla nodded, held out her hand and gave it a rough swooping motion, then shook out her arm and tried the same motion again. The second time, it somehow reminded Mako of a quickly-growing fire, leaping smoothly forward and growing to more powerful with every movement. "Sith have this way of moving. I think all Force-users do, but I've only seen the one Jedi, so they could be different. They just move… right. Like if they were to step out an airlock, it'd be because another ship was passing by that they could step into."

Mako gave Mandokarla a look, and the blue-eyed woman grinned sheepishly. "It makes sense to me," she said, almost in protest.

Mako nodded, and the two of them lapsed into silence again.

Mako counted seven seconds before Mandokarla started fidgeting impatiently.

Well, she'd have to wait. The younger hunter was still trying to figure out what she wanted to say, let alone how to say it.

The thing was, Mandokarla did. She waited for minutes while Mako practically composed the whole conversation in her head, figuring out exactly what she was going to say, and what she needed her partner to know. Mandokarla, who Mako had never seen make a plan or wait a second more than she was forced to, sat there fidgeting and glancing between Mako and the rest of the cantina until Mako finally spoke.

"Why don't you care about Braden?"

Instead of looking shocked or hurt, Mandokarla looked confused. She leaned closer, rubbed a hand against one ear, and asked, "what? I don't think I heard-"

"Why don't you care about Braden!?"

Now Mandokarla looked hurt, but still confused, which pissed Mako off even more.

"You've barely said a word about him or Jory since they died. You spend every second moment distracting yourself from getting into the Hunt – you almost lost Nem'ro's sponsorship twice because you wouldn't kill the people he sent you after-"

"Y-you said that was al-"

"- and apparently getting the token was barely worth bringing me on the hunt with you. Then, after wasting all that time getting the sponsorship Braden put in your lap, and getting here on the ship I chartered specifically so we'd make it in time, you run off into the jungle to kill time!"

Mandokarla just sat there, dumbstruck. Her lips moved soundlessly, and she seemed to shrink as Mako bulldozed her.

"Then, when we finally get to the enclave and find out we almost missed the start of our part in the Great Hunt – there aren't even enough spots left! We should have already been in, but now we're gambling on three hunts and a fight! Still, not a word from you, like it wasn't a problem!" Mako wasn't even paying attention to Mandokarla now. She couldn't see straight, she was so angry. "Then, THEN you get all friendly with that Crysta Markon woman. Ba'vodu? Is Braden that easy to replace for you? He was like a father to me! You don't get to pretend he didn't matter! And then, to drag me in front of your family, just to show off what you have that I don't anymore!"

Screeee-CRASH!

Mako wasn't sure what shocked her out of her rant, but she suddenly noticed the fire in Mandokarla's eyes, and the very apparent muscles flexing against her jacket, and the table between them sliding away and crashing into the wall. Then she was falling forward with nothing to lean on. Then she wasn't falling anymore, and two arms were wrapped around her. It all happened so fast, Mako barely realized whose arms they were.

A quiet voice, but violently sharp, said, "there's nothing I have that's not yours, vod'ika."

Little sister, Mako's translator told her.

What?

"I never meant to hurt you, Mako." Mandokarla… Aqura held her tight. "I guess… I guess I just took for granted that you'd understand. I know Braden was your buir. Crysta and him… she made it seem like they were pretty close. That makes her your ba'vodu, so it makes her mine, too."

Mako still didn't understand. What was that supposed to mean? Aqura was saying too much that didn't make sense.

"I wasn't introducing you to my family, vod'ika," Aqura murmured, "I was showing you ours."

Mako's breath hitched, and then she was crying. For the first time since Braden died, she let herself hold onto somebody stronger than her and let go. Aqura didn't say anything for a while, just held her and let the tears flow.

Long minutes later, when Mako felt so spent that Aqura half held her up, Aqura asked, "do you want to try again tomorrow? Sherkan, Aayha, and Sho'cye will still want to meet my new sister."


	8. Tatooine 1

"Oh," Mako said, just before the Cosmic Torrent's holoterminal started beeping. "That's Crysta calling on the emergency channel. Just a sec..."

Her eyes flickered, and their ba'vodu appeared in her flickery blue 3-dimensional glory.

Aqura smiled. The past two months had had their ups and downs, but Crysta was a happy constant in it all. It was good to see her, even if she looked as frazzled and worried as every time she contacted them.

Just one more thing for Tarro Blood to pay for.

One more in a rapidly growing list, Aqura thought as her smile dropped.

"Finally! You're some hard critters to pin down." Crysta looked happy to see them, too. Or relieved, at least. "Ignore my recording for Tatooine, kids. Everything's changed. That slicer selling the Great Hunt list started a trend. Somebody told your target he was a marked man. Naturally, he decided to make himself scarce."

Aqura shrugged. "I don't really like sneaking up on people, anyway."

As far as she was concerned, that whole incident had been a favour. She'd gotten in good with the Hunt managers by tracking down the people selling target names, and due to complications, now she didn't have to shoot anyone in the back.

Crysta shook her head. "You're not going to feel that way once you're on this hunt, Mandokarla. You're after Tyresius Lokai, a scoundrel who's been on the galaxy's most wanted list forever."

That got Aqura's eyes a little wider. That was quite an achievement.

Mako seemed pretty impressed, too. "'The' Tyresius Lokai? That scoundrel cheated the Hutt Cartel, Exchange, and Black Sun gangs out of a fortune."

"You'll have to tell me about it on the way." Aqura grinned. "Sounds like quite a story."

"Oh, it is," Crysta agreed. "And it's not even the most impressive one on his list. Maybe you can ask him before you put him on ice. Now, here's what you need to know: two days ago, your rival bounty hunter shot down Tyresius' ship over Tatooine, but then lost him in the desert."

"That's lucky. Hunt was almost over before it began."

Mako nodded. Crysta tilted her head skeptically.

"Man on that many people's lists for that long, I figure it's a little more than luck keeping him alive. Thing is, he's probably the only Devaronian on Tatooine. He shouldn't be hard to spot."

"Uh," Aqura started, glancing at Mako.

Mako's eyes flickered, and a holo appeared over the terminal, beside Crysta's image. A humanoid figure with a pointed nose and two horns out of the top of his head. If it weren't for how severely thin his face looked, Aqura might've guessed he was a kind of Zabrak.

Then she snapped her fingers. "Oh! I've seen one of those before! Red, right?"

Her partners nodded. Offhand, Mako asked, "where'd you see one?"

"He was a Mandalorian, back on Dromund Kaas. I did him a favour while I waited for you to cool off. He wasn't very bright."

"Yeah, well, you can give up on Tyresius sharing that convenient weakness," Crysta muttered. "Man's cannier'n a pack of strill. You don't have any contacts on Tatooine, by chance?"

To Aqura's knowledge, strill didn't hunt in packs, but she decided not to say anything, on that or potential contacts. To her relief, Mako shook her head, too. "No. I'd never heard of Tatooine before the Hunt. I doubt I've even met anyone from there."

"Good," Aqura muttered. Not quietly enough. Mako threw her a look filled with a lot of emotions, though the one that mattered was grief.

"Aqura," the girl said quietly, "what happened to Anuli-"

"Was my fault," Aqura said. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Look, can we… just see if Tyresius is still on planet, or something?"

Mako went quiet, trading some sort of look with Crysta. They both looked at Aqura with expressions she couldn't, or wouldn't, read.

It didn't matter what they thought. Twice, Mako had introduced her to her family, and twice they'd died before she even got to know them. That, and everyone from her clan…

These sorts of things weren't coincidences.

"Alright," Mako said. "I'm in touch with the Tatooine space traffic control."

"Which one?" Crysta asked.

Mako didn't reply. Her eyes flickered rapidly, and for long enough that Aqura shared a worried glance with Crysta. After minutes, though, she finally blinked and looked around.

"Mos Ila's probably our best bet," she said. "It's the Imperial outpost on Tatooine, but it's also got more crime than anywhere else on Tatooine… even if that's only because it has more people. Seems like Tyresius would be able to talk somebody into giving him a lift offworld there."

Crysta smiled. "I never have to wonder why Braden liked you so much. Got a good head on your shoulders, Sparks."

"That happened two times!"

Aqura scowled. "You never tell me that," she pouted.

Crysta rolled her eyes, but played along. "I would, if you'd stop solving problems by hitting things with it." Then she waved and gave one last warning. "Tyresius has a reputation for being slippery. When you catch him, better hold on tight. Good luck."

Then the holo winked out and she was gone.

Hesitantly, Mako asked, "do you want to call Uncle Sherkan? I've heard rumours Tyresius Lokai was involved in the breaking of the Mandalorian Blockade. I don't know any details, but maybe he can tell us something?"

Aqura's breath caught. She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped. How was she supposed to explain that her uncle – for that matter, her whole clan – hadn't been at the Mandalorian Blockade? She fidgeted, trying to figure out what to say.

Mako raised her hands, trying to wave them and hide a blush of embarrassment at the same time. "We don't have to. I just thought, well, I mean, I guess-"

Aqura laughed, a bit nervous, a bit teasing. "Yes, we can call home. You know you don't have to ask me, right?"

Before Mako could reply, Aqura held up a finger and leaned over the railing to see the floor below. "Hey, Toovee," she called down at their droid, "how's the armour coming along?"

"Master," the droid whined, "your most recent trip to Nal Hutta has filled every nook and cranny of this metal monstrosity with-"

"Uh-huh," Aqura interrupted, "and the lightsaber? You're taking good care of it, right? I can replace you more easily than I can replace it, you know. It's not mine to damage. And check on the egg, would you?"

Toovee grumbled something about him damaging her if she came down there, but he probably didn't think she could hear him, so she laughed and turned back to Mako and the holoterminal.

Mako smirked. "You know you enjoy that way too much, right?"

"I enjoy it just enough," Aqura insisted. "Like I said, he's-"

"-got to earn his keep, I know." Mako rolled her eyes. "Now, come on. It's a hassle securing this channel."

"Right, right."

It took a few seconds of indistinct flurries of blue light, but eventually it formed up properly.

That was odd. Uncle Sherkan was usually pretty quick to answer.

When he finally appeared, he looked distracted, then shocked.

"Su cuy'gar," Aqura said. "Something wrong?"

"Sparks," Sherkan said, looking around. "Mandokarla."

"Twice, okay? Come on!"

"I told you not to call me while you were on the Great Hunt," Sherkan said, scowling and crossing his arms. His scowl twitched, though. It probably wouldn't hold for long. Mako didn't know that, though, and looked embarrassed. Aqura decided to show her how it was done.

"Guess you'll have to tell us at least one more time," she laughed, tapping the side of her head. "Maybe it'll sink in."

Aqura used to use that one on everyone from Denn to Lekan. The only one it never worked on was Shon, but only because she was a lot scarier about enforcing her orders than anyone else.

Anyway, it worked this time, too, and Sherkan's scowl slowly devolved into a smirk. "Fine," he said, "don't call me during the Great Hunt… what are you doing right now?"

"Hunting down a man named Tyresius Lokai," Mako said.

Sherkan quirked an eyebrow, but from offscreen came a voice: "did I hear somebody say Tyresius Lokai?" Then Sho'cye appeared on the holo, looking curious. "Oh, hey Sparks. Mandokarla."

Mako ground her teeth and Aqura grinned. Sho'cye noticed, and winked. Mako just grumbled slightly louder.

Sherkan moved to the side slightly, giving his nephew some room on the holo. "Name sound familiar to you?"

Sho'cye looked a little disappointed Sherkan didn't already know, but he perked up at the idea of talking about one of his stories. "Yeah. Tyresius Lokai is one of the best smugglers and con men in the business. These days, though, he's also one of the most famous. Bad sign, y'know?"

Mako nodded, but uncle Sherkan just looked a little exasperated. Aqura had to laugh. Mako hadn't yet started to understand how long Sho's stories could go on, and Aqura tended to enjoy them just because Sho loved telling them so much. Sherkan was more a man of brevity.

"My favourite is back when he helped organize the breaking of the Hydian Blockade. Hylo Viz gets all the attention for it, but that sort of thing's a team effort, and I've read that Tyresius was sort of a quiet partner of hers. So the two of them are taking a look at this blockade, just after the jetii got their shebs kicked back to Coruscant, and they're thinking..."

Sho'cye proceeded to tell them all, in detail, the story of the Mandalorian Blockade and how the counterattack was organized. Every once in a while, he'd remember the story was supposed to be about Tyresius, and he'd give some sort of detail about the con-man, wonder aloud what the particular action or adventure might mean for his personality, then trail back onto the Hydian Blockade again. It was an incredible rambling peace, and Mako confessed to Aqura partway through – without breaking Sho's stride at all – that she was using a program to collate all the data.

Aqura just smiled and let her cousin go on with his story. It meandered and could be hard to follow, but she'd learned the trick of picking out the threads she needed and letting the rest be there for Sho's satisfaction instead of hers. After perhaps ten or twenty minutes, he started to wind down, and Aqura slowly lifted up a hand and started counting off main points.

"So, it sounds like Tyresius Lokai is a clever, untrustworthy hut'uun. Really clever. Unless you're exaggerating some of those stories. He's imaginative, quick-thinking, resourceful, uses all that to get himself out of the trouble he usually gets himself into. It also sounds like it's a coincidence he's usually ripped off thieves and gangs – they just happen to have the most money. That about cover it?"

Mako's eyes flickered, then she stared at Aqura, bemused and impressed.

Sho'cye blushed. "Well, I guess some of the stories could be mistaken. I don't-"

"No more of that," Sherkan interrupted, throwing up his hands to forestall more storytelling. "Sho'cye, you need to get back to packing your things, like Aayha is, so I can impress upon Mandokarla how important it is that she not-"

"I'm done, actually," said another voice. Then a girl who looked like a female version of Sho'cye joined the holo. She had long, straight, brown hair, a lean figure, and the same distracted look as Sho, though she was concentrating on a helmet in her hands rather than something in her own head.

"Mostly," she said, fiddling with the back of the helmet with a device Aqura didn't even recognize. Then she looked up. "Hello, Aqura. Mako."

Mako threw up her hands and cried, "thank you!"

* * *

"Some day," Mako said with exaggerated solemnity, "we're going to go somewhere nice."

Aqura smiled. "Don't count on it," she said, watching her partner wipe sweat from her brow. It didn't help, because Mako's sleeve was already soaked from having done the same thing dozens of times since they landed. Half an hour ago.

She decided not to mention that her armour was keeping her just a bit under room temperature. Instead, she sent another in a long list of silent thanks to Aayha and followed Mako as closely as she could. It wasn't hard. Even on Tatooine, the armour got respect. They hadn't been bothered since they landed, though that wasn't helping them find their way around very well. A part of Aqura wanted to ask for directions, but she was worried Mako would take offense.

"I think that's a fourth left turn," Aqura whispered to Mako as the girl hurried around another corner. Quietly, because Mako was starting to look frustrated.

Mako shook her head sharply. "Yeah, but we took those stairs, and one of those corners was only seventy degrees. We're not going the same direction."

Oh. Aqura nodded and followed as Mako picked up her pace again. A pair of rough-looking gamorrean pig-men stumbled and dashed out of Mako's way – not Aqura's, Mako's. If she moved any faster, they might cause a panic.

"It should..." a not of desperation tinged Mako's voice, "be… right around… here!"

They descended a flight of stairs to find a departure area, the hangar gated off to the right, another two paths out of the area to the left, and a devaronian and friends in the middle of the waiting area.

Mako called out a little early for Aqura's tastes, but at least she used the man's alias. "Gellar Roing?"

The devaronian, who'd been muttering something impatient, turned to look. So did his three bodyguards. Then his eyes fell on Aqura, and… lit up?

"Oh," he exclaimed, "a Mandalorian! Looking for a new speeder? I'm on my way to Nar Shadaa, but with how long it takes to get departure clearance around here, I'm sure we can work something out. I've got great deals on the new T-9s, if you're interested."

Wait, what?

"Drop the act," Mako snapped. "We know you're Tyresius Lokai." She drew her blaster pistol, which set the bodyguards on edge.

The devaronian threw up his hands and cowered. "Oh no," he moaned. "This is why I hate Tatooine. Please, I've never heard Ty… Tyr… Please don't shoot me!"

The three bodyguards were growling and stepping in front of their charge, all with hands on their blasters. Aqura didn't move. It wasn't that she didn't think they could take the bodyguards down; at this distance, she could take two out of a fight in one move. But the devaronian looks so terrified and so confused, it was hard to believe he could be the right guy.

"Mako," she said cautiously, "ret mhi mird'ush'gotal. Tion kaysh lenedat ra-"

"Mandokarla," Mako snapped. She didn't take he eyes off the devaronian. "Trust me."

Tyresius Lokai's instincts were worth a freighter of gold. He saw something that tipped him off, and Aqura's hand gripped her blaster pistol in the same instant that one of the bodyguards stumbled into her, pushed by Tyresius. She heard, "shoot them, you fools," trailing quickly into the distance as the scene devolved into a chaotic mess. It took precious seconds for the bodyguards to fall, and more for Aqura to disentangle herself from the biggest one.

A hand reached out, and she took it before realizing it was Mako. The girl, stubborn as ever, set her feet and pulled up on a hundred and twenty kilos of armoured Mandalorian. Impressively, she took enough weight that Aqura could shift her footing and stand up properly. Once she was up, she looked between Mako and the direction she was pretty sure Tyresius had run in.

"You didn't go after him?"

Mako shook her head. "I barely found my way here. I'm not taking a chance at a trap without you around."

"Yeah..." Aqura sighed and nudged one of the bodyguards with her foot. "Sorry. I wasn't expecting… never mind." She reached down, picked up the man who'd fallen on her, and growled, "where'd he go?"

Her vibroblade popped from her gauntlet. For effect. It probably didn't make much difference. The man was three times her size and white in the face.

"Stop," he begged, "I surrender. I've got no loyalty to that scum. He left us here to die. The pay is great, but he never said we'd go up against anything like you."

Mako and Aqura exchanged a look. That had been them off guard, off balance, and still out of it after navigating the spaceport. Was this the best Tyresius had been able to hire?

Aqura set the man back down beside his two friends, neither of whom looked ready to stand up yet.

Ugh. They were embarrassing. She should have just shot them and saved the time.

Mako, reading her mind, said, "talk. Then start looking for a new line of work."

The man raised his hands in surrender. "The devaronian said a bounty hunter shot down his starship. He walked across the desert to reach Mos Ila. Blasted lucky he made it."

Aqura stepped back and let Mako move forward. The slicer's glare was enough to burn holes in a starship hull. It made Aqura grin and the man quail.

"The point," Mako said, "he's still moving."

"Like you might hope to be, after this," Aqura added helpfully.

"I-I was-" the man rethought his phrasing as Mako cracked her knuckles. Aqura tried not to giggle. "The other bounty hunter. A rodian. That's his ship in the hangar. Ty-whatever, he paid the guy off. But he might have an idea where the other ship went down!"

He slurred the last sentence, getting it out before Mako made good on a particularly threatening step forward. Mako obligingly stepped back, eyes flickering.

"It's Veeboo Lunx's ship," she said quickly. "A rodian with a reputation for being deadly accurate with a blaster. I'm surprised he made it this far. He's supposed to be, well, lazy."

"Explains why he walked out on his bounty," Aqura muttered. Then she looked straight into the bodyguard's eyes and repeated her first question. "Where?"

"A cantina, north of town. I don't remember the name!"

"Got it. Varath Cantina," Mako said, already stepping past the man, "let's go."

The stepped past the man, who slumped to his knees as they left the room and re-entered the nightmarish labyrinth of the rest of the starport.

"You're-"

"Making sure he didn't double back around," Mako finished. "Yes."

Aqura took her by the shoulder and steered her safely through a crowd. "So," she asked, "that guy seemed pretty scared of you. What'd you do to the other two vaar'ika?"

The ones who hadn't bothered getting up in time to see them leave, Aqura noted.

Mako grinned. "You know that move you taught me a week ago? Rancor Rising?"

"You didn't."

"I did."

"Kandosii, Sparks! I knew you could!"

Aqura and her sister laughed and ran.


	9. Tatooine 2

"So you really couldn't tell?"

Aqura grit her teeth. Mako was laughing at her! She'd been laughing since they left Mos Ila.

She tried again to get it to stop. "People don't lie to me a lot, okay?"

That just made Mako's grin wider.

"You know I'm never going to let-"

"Oh look, we're here!" Aqura practically sprinted at the cantina. Finally, a lead, and a way out of this conversation. She almost left Mako behind, which was fine with her at the moment. In the time it took her to scan the first room of the cantina, though, Mako was back with her.

"They keep the most decadent stuff downstairs. It's cooler down there," Mako said, and Aqura followed here downstairs. At least Mako was back to business. Still, probably best not to ask what 'decadent' meant.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Aqura decided it must mean, 'shady, criminal, and dirty'. Probably expensive, too. The lights were brighter and more colourful, the drinks on the walls more numerous and varied, and the dancers less dressed and more… enthusiastic.

And there, at the back, was a rodian with a chestplate and a blaster pistol, ordering around two dancing girls and yelling for a round for everyone.

The dancing girls moved away when Aqura and Mako approached.

"You sold out on your bounty," Aqura said to the little man.

"You sold out _to_ your bounty," Mako added. "In the Great Hunt. That takes a special kind of stupid. You're not going to have much of a reputation after this."

Veeboo Lunx stood, looking more relaxed than he should. He started speaking, and Mako's translation software sounded in Aqura's helmet. Mako liked to read it, but Aqura found it distracting.

"Oh, it's you. My 'rival'."

"Rivals," Aqura corrected, though the translation continued.

"Welcome to the party," it finished.

Veeboo didn't spare Mako a glance, though that was probably because his massive compound eyes had better peripheral vision than a human's. He just continued, "you're probably wondering why an amazing bounty hunter like myself quit the Great Hunt and let Tyresius go."

The rodian took a drink, then offered the glass to Aqura. When she didn't take it, he put it back down and continued. "The answer's simple: more credits than I'd ever earn chasing bounties for the rest of my life. Even if I won the Great Hunt!"

"So you're just in it for the money," Aqura concluded icily.

Beside her, Mako shifted uncomfortably. Aqura put out a hand and brushed it on Mako's. The girl thought she was just in it for the money, too. She was wrong, of course, or they wouldn't get along so well, but until the slicer proved what she needed to… well, they'd have to see.

"Save it," Veeboo said. "All I ever wanted to do was retire in style. If you're looking for Tyresius, you just missed him. He dropped by a little before you. Said he needed a new ship."

The rodian laughed, which turned out to be a really unsettling combination of the human version and a throaty buzzing, all at a weirdly high pitch. "I sent him to the lady of pain," he said. "Can't wait to see what she does with him!"

Mako leaned over. "Did that sound capitalized to you?"

Aqura shrugged.

"Cuz if it did, I'm betting we don't need this sleezeball to tell us where the Lady of Pain is."

Oh, good point.

"You won't need directions," Veeboo said. "See, Tyresius tossed me a bonus to eliminate you. Thanks for making yourself easy to find."

Aqura moved at the same time Veeboo did, but she didn't go for her blaster. She lunged forward and punched him straight in the throat. She didn't pause to watch him drop. Instead, she turned, grabbed the hilt of a duros' stun baton, drew her blaster, and shot him in the foot. He fell, and Aqura stepped back. Mako had already shot Veeboo's other accomplice, yet another big human with a blaster and no idea how to use it. He was dead, but that wasn't Mako's fault. She wasn't experienced enough to take the chance at a less lethal shot.

"Nice move," Aqura said, nodding at her partner. Then she shot Veeboo in the chest. He'd been lying on the floor, trying to gasp for breath. "Uh… you speak Duro?"

"I… I speak Basic," the wounded Duros grunted.

"Oh, good," Aqura decided. "Mako?"

Mako stepped forward for more interrogation practice.

"This should be good."

"Good? She's called the Lady of Pain. With capitals. What part of that sounds good to you?"

"Well, she's with the Exchange. They always have the best guards."

"Please don't start a fight."

"..."

"Mandokarla!"

"I haven't had a decent fight since we got here, Sparks."

"Well, there were the bodyg- I mean, Vee- Uh… Those sand people?"

"Yeah."

Mako sighed in defeat.

"We could find a Krayt dragon instead," Aqura offered, and Mako glared. It came out a lot more squinty than usual, because of the glaring desert sun.

There was a clang that startled Aqura, until she realized it was herself, trying to wipe her brow. She'd had to turn off the electronics in her helmet because she was afraid of soaking ithem and ruining it.

"I think the heat is the worst enemy here," she sighed. "I thought this armour was going to protect me from that."

Mako made the mistake of glancing over, then quickly looked away. The glare off of the golden beskar was practically a weapon in and of itself. After she'd blinked her vision clear, though, Mako said, "I doubt your suit's environmental controls are powerful enough for this. You've been fine so far because beskar has a really high specific heat capacity, but we've been out in the heat for a while now. I guess it finally got to you."

"A high what?"

"It means it takes a lot of energy to heat it up. That's why beskar can take a hit from a lightsaber and not melt."

"But now I'm stuck being overheated?"

"Afraid so."

Aqura sighed dramatically and the pair kept walking.

After a few minutes, Aqura asked, "if it takes a lot of energy to heat up, does that mean it takes a long time to cool down, too?"

Mako gave her friend a surprised look. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

The mandalorian shrugged. "I guessed. Seemed to make sense. If it takes a lot of energy to heat up, there's a lot of energy to lose, right? I guess that means I'm going to be boiling for the rest of the day… are we there yet?"

"Just over that rise," Mako nodded, pointing ahead. She gave Aqura an exasperated look. "We wouldn't be walking so far if you hadn't insisted on leaving the speeder at Mos Anek."

"I wasn't risking somebody stealing it."

"For the price of parking, they might as well have."

"Haat," Aqura agreed. Truth.

As Mako had said, over the next rise was a hole in the mountainside that gave off a distinctly foreboding air.

"That's definitely it."

Mako nodded in agreement.

"You want to go first?"

"She's called the Lady of Pain. No, I don't want to go first. You've got the armour. You go first!"

"Aw," Aqura teased. "And you were so scary with your interrogating, too."

Mako, the picture of maturity, stuck her tongue out at her friend.

Aqura laughed and lead the way.

They made it approximately six meters past the entrance before Aqura froze, and Mako with her.

"I am Mandokarla," Aqura called out. "This is my partner, Mako. We're here for Tyresius Lokai, the devaronian who just arrived."

Seven sentients with rifles appeared from dark corners of the cave. All of them were aimed at the intruders. Mako drew her pistol and moved close to Aqura. Aqura raised her hands and primed micro-missiles and flamethrower.

Nobody spoke.

After a few seconds, Aqura said, "I bet we could kill six of you. Probably seven, if I got lucky."

"Aqura," Mako hissed, "not helping!"

"That won't be necessary," crooned a woman's voice from electronic speakers. "Come in, hunters."

"Said the spider to the fly," Mako muttered.

Aqura nodded. Apparently it was possible to get chills down your spine while sweating buckets. It was as unpleasant as it sounded.

The guards lined the cave walls and led them through the cavern into an actual metal-walled building. A massive one, dozens of meters high, with an exit into the open air large enough to lead a rancor through, and exits further into the base in the other two directions. In spite of the blazing sun shining into the main room, however, the room felt dark, decorated with dark metal and cages along the walls, with dried blood visible on some of the walls.

Aqura caught a glimpse of a shallow pit outside that told her exactly what all the showmanship was for. Her attention was taken, however, by the devaronian and rattataki taking on the other side of the room. Their voices carried well across the vast space. Probably because the guards and servants were too scared to make any noise around their mistress.

Ideally, there'd be a chance to kill everyone in charge here and collect on Tyresius' bounty to boot.

"Ah," rasped the Lady of Pain – a rattataki who dressed for the title - "The hunters, just in time for my auction."

She turned to look at Tyresius, who was handcuffed beside her, with three guns pointed at him. Less than Aqura and Mako had warranted, the mandalorian noted with satisfaction. The seven guards who'd led them in still held their guns on them.

"Now," the Lady of Pain hissed sweetly, turning to face her handcuffed prisoner, "isn't it time you introduced yourself properly?"

Tyresius chuckled in a self-deprecating way and raised his cuffed hands, as if to show he was harmless. "Well, I guess you've caught me. The name's Tyresius Lokai. You might have heard of me."

"I have," the woman purred. Aqura tried not to shiver.

Tyresius smiled. "Then you know the simply ridiculous resources I have on hand. Anything you want, to get me off-planet safely. And get rid of my pesky tag-alongs, if you wouldn't mind."

"Why, you-" Mako started, but cut off when a guard gestured meaningfully with his blaster. Tyresius might be the one handcuffed, but that didn't make the two of them any less prisoners.

The Lady of Pain, however, didn't look so much intrigued as amused. She gave Tyresius a long, knowing smirk, then dragged her eyes across Aqura and Mako's bodies like she was undressing them, and then undressing what was left. In her imagination, she was definitely flaying them alive. Lovingly. The rattataki woman grinned broadly and strode towards the two of them.

"That is tempting," she assured Tyresius, with a last insincere glance, "but it would be rude to eliminate the competition before I've heard a counter-offer..." She moved within centimeters of Aqura, molding her body to the beskar'gam without ever quite touching it. Basking in the metal's heat, she breathed, "well?"

Aqura really, really wanted to scream. If Mako weren't there, she'd definitely be taking the risk and just shooting everybody.

A spark flickered in her mind, though. One hint of understanding, of recognition, as much as she hated the idea. Trying adamantly not to squirm away from the Lady of Pain, Aqura said, "you're not in this for the money."

The rattataki's eyes lit up like pools of quicksilver, and she brought a hand under Aqura's chin, as if to draw her into a kiss. "Very good," she purred. Then she pushed herself back, scowling at Tyresius. "I find money dirty. And not in a fun way. I do, however, have a keen interest in gladiatorial contests. A match is scheduled for today, and I've lost my beloved champion."

The way she said beloved made Aqura shift a little closer to Mako. And away from the Lady of Pain.

"Whoever fights as my new champion could ask _any_ favour of me." She gave Aqura a long, lingering, possessive look.

Aqura had never wanted a fight less in her life.

Tyresius, however, looked tempted. He opened his mouth to speak-

"I'm in." Aqura's mouth moved first. Blast it.

"Mandokarla," Mako murmured, "are you sure?"

No. No, she really wasn't. A fight was one thing. A fight for this woman? Something else entirely.

And there was Tyresius, smiling behind the woman's back. Somehow, this was working out in his favour, she knew it.

But there was the Lady of Pain, with those quicksilver-poison eyes, and all her minions with their guns pointed at Mako…

And, maybe, there was a little temptation to finally have a good fight, after the last few weeks.

The Lady of Pain didn't give her any time to change her mind. "Excellent," she crowed. She turned and sashayed back to Tyresius, who suddenly looked much less happy. "The auction doesn't seem to be going your way, Tyresius."

Tyresius frowned. "I wouldn't say it's going your way, either, Lady. Do you really think a fight between a Mandalorian and one of your pets or slaves is going to last very long?"

"Oh, it won't be my pets in the arena," said the Lady of Pain, "a friend has provided a brute of his own for the competition." Still, she didn't look as confident as she had a moment ago. "Still, you do have a point." She turned and looked Mako up and down.

Aqura stepped in front of her partner. "Nu d-"

"Alright."

Shabla.

"Mako-"

She cut off as Mako pushed past her.

"If you want a fairer fight, I can do it. Just make sure our mark has a bow on him when we come to collect." The girl turned to look at Aqura. "Keep an eye on him. He's slippery."

Aqura shook her head. "I'm keeping an eye on you. You just stole my fight, Sparks."

Mako smirked. "Of course that's what you've got a problem with. Look, get some ice on that armour before you get heat stroke, keep an eye on Lokai, and I'll see you when I'm done."

"While all this is very touching," the Lady of Pain said, "let's get to the main event, shall we?"

Mako nodded, and the rattataki crime lord led the way into the open sky and the fighting pit. There were people waiting there, on walkways that surrounded the pit on every side. Umbrellas covered tables with all manner of species seated there, sipping and snacking on foods that couldn't be native to Tatooine itself.

One man, in a full head-covering, strode forward to greet the Lady of Pain as she stepped out into the twin-sun light.

The Lady of Pain nodded to the man in a noticeably more conservative way than she'd treated Aqura. "Fell Dargun," she said, only a little curtly.

"This is your new champion?" The man glared at Aqura. "A Mandalorian? How can-"

Aqura raised her hand, then pointed a thumb at Mako.

"We felt it would be unfair to your little hound to fight somebody so dangerous, so we've agreed on the sidekick," the Lady of Pain taunted.

"Partner," Aqura and Mako corrected at the same time.

"Yeah, right," Tyresius muttered.

Aqura dropped a gauntleted hand on his shoulder.

"Ow, ooh, hot!"

"Tyresius," Aqura hissed. "Can I call you Tyresius?"

"I don't really get on first-name terms with most people trying to kill me," the devaronian said, all but blowing on her gauntlet to try to cool it down.

"Lokai, then," Aqura decided. "When all this is over, me and Mako are going to be deciding whether to kill you or turn you in to one of the many, many people with a grudge against you. We both know which of those is going to be more painful. Don't make me vote for it."

She patted his shoulder once more, then stepped away, towards Mako.

"So, who's..." She trailed off. Her question was answered.

Mako's opponent was a gammorean pig-man three times the size of Aqura in her armour. Which made her about four times Mako's size. He wore almost no armour, and carried an axe the size of Mako's chest.

"Osik," she finished.

Mako made a sort of choking sound in response.

The green thing snorted at them and stepped towards Mako aggressively. It took an effort of will for Aqura to keep from stepping in front of the girl again. Whoever it was, he squealed and snorted at Mako for a few seconds before Fell Dargun called him away.

"Mako," Aqura asked, "what did he say?"

"You don't want to know."

The Lady of Pain grinned and spread her arms wide as the gammorean lumbered down into the pit. "May the best fighter win," she proclaimed.

Mako's expression went hard. "I plan to." She pointed at one of the guards. "You. Get ice packs. Plenty of them." Then she turned to look up at Aqura. "Give me your right bracer."

"My right one? But all that's got is a pair of micro-missiles and-"

"I know," Mako interrupted. "Give it to me. And… don't watch the fight."

"Yeah, you're still not getting me to do that," Aqura laughed. She was already pulling off her glove and unclasping her bracer. "How many times have you gotten into a fight without me, Sparks?"

Mako scowled and held out her arm for the bracer. Once it was on, Aqura interrupted what Mako was about to say.

"Enough. Oya, ner vod."

Mako smiled. "Oya," she replied. "Let's hunt."

"Hey!" Fell Dargun's voice rang out across the arena. "Is this fight happening or not? Send in the meat!"

"We're going to kill him later," Aqura promised.

Mako looked about to protest, then she just shrugged and walked to the arena.

"You know she's probably going to die," commented an annoying voice at her shoulder.

"I already gave you one warning, Lokai," Aqura growled.

Mako had reached the bottom of the ramp at the arena's edge. The gammorean was standing in the middle of the arena, axe held ready in a stance that said a lot more for his bloodlust than his skill. At least there was that.

It wasn't that she didn't believe in Mako. She did. It was just… people died, when Aqura wasn't around to make sure they didn't.

Mako should have learned that by now, after her friend on Nar Shadaa…

"I was just curious why you would let her make such a risky move."

The gammorean let Mako get close. It was a long walk across the arena. Plenty of space. Why was she walking up to him?

"I didn't let her do anything," Aqura corrected him. "Mako does what she wants."

What did she have on her? She hadn't taken the flamethrower. The fight would have been over in a moment with that. Mako had her blaster, the carbonite spray, two missiles, and-

"We both know that's not true," the devaronian said, in the same tone as he might correct somebody on the direction of gravity. "She's learning from you. You might have had to insist, but she wouldn't have gone down there if you'd told her not to."

Aqura grit her teeth and watched the fight begin. Fell Dargun yelled, "kill her, Borga!" and the gammorean lunged forward. Mako dodged, firing her blaster as she skipped sideways and out of the way of a wild downward swing. Two of the shots glanced off of Borga's armour and the rest missed, then there was sand everywhere and Borga was probably nearly invisible from Mako's vantage.

Mako turned, set her stance, and put three blaster bolts into the gammorean's side. The alien roared in pain and swung wildly. Somehow, Borga couldn't see Mako, but Mako could see him just fine.

"Stars, she's a pretty good shot. You teach her how to do that?"

Aqura started at pressure on her shoulder, but it turned out to just be the guard Mako had sent off. He'd returned with some ice packs and, apparently lacking much sense, immediately pressed one of them against her shoulder.

She turned her head to stare when it started making a hissing sound. Steam was rising from where the gold plate met ice pack, the little dew drops on the container's surface sizzling as they dropped onto the beskar. Aqura and the guard traded a look, and the guard shifted his grip so he wouldn't brush flesh against the scalding metal.

"Guess Mako was right about the heat thing," Aqura marveled.

"Speaking of whom," Tyresius said meaningfully.

Aqura spun to look back at the arena. In the seconds Aqura had looked away, things had changed drastically. Mako was scrambling away from Borga, off-balance and centimeters from the swinging axe. The audience roared, hungry for blood.

Mako fired a few more shots, but Borga blocked them with his axe. At least that kept him from swinging it for a second, giving her just a moment to breath.

"So why doesn't she just use those missiles you mentioned?"

There were plenty of reasons why not. Because the bracer was loose without the armour, and hard to aim. Because micro-missiles killed with shrapnel alone, where larger explosives could kill just by being near someone when they blew. Because the sand deadened any explosion that hit it, soaked up shrapnel like water. So much more.

None of which she was telling to somebody who didn't actually care, even if she had time to explain. She watched as Mako got her feet under her and darted right past Borga, escaping the corner he'd been pushing her into, and said nothing but, "ne'johaa, Lokai."

"Alright, alright. Just wondering why you're teaching her to fight like you."

Aqura blinked as Mako tried to kick Borga in the back of the knee and knock him off balance. It didn't work, because Borga was already turning, and the kick didn't have enough force to snap his leg sideways.

If it had been Aqura down there, even without armour, the kick would have been faster, would have caught the gammorean's tree-trunk leg square in the knee and sent him toppling. Mako just wasn't as fast or coordinated as her. But that was just because she didn't have as much practice. Right?

Mako's mistake left her in a horrible spot when Borga swung his axe again. She tried to skip backwards, even to block the axe, but she didn't even make it back to standing before the blade hit her.

Her scream tore through the noise of the crowd. Aqura screamed with her.

Aqura didn't even realize she was moving until the Lady of Pain stepped in front of her.

"Usenye!"

"Hunter-"

Aqura's hand shot out and grabbed the woman by the throat, then tossed her to the side.

Then there was somebody else in her way. The devaronian.

"You're going to get her killed!" He yelled the words while dodging a punch that would have thrown him into the arena.

Aqura stopped in an instant.

Every guard around them had a blaster pointed at her. Every guard surrounding the arena had drawn their blaster. The Lady of Pain was picking herself up off the ground, rubbing her throat.

Mako was on her back in front of Borga. There was so much blood! It covered her entire left side. She was live, though. She had her right arm raised, fist pointed straight at Borga. It was her, with Aqura's bracer aimed at Borga, and the gamorrean bearing down on her, axe held high.

Before Aqura could throw all her caution away again, Mako activated one of the bracer's triggers, and Aqura breathed a sigh of relief. A sliver-thin dart, smaller than anyone could see, shot from the bracer and hit Borga somewhere – Aqura couldn't see exactly where, but she saw the effects. The green pig-man's muscles convulsed, his arms seizing and his legs going rigid. Electricity shot through his body, easily enough to paralyze even someone his size for a few seconds.

It would have been perfect, except Mako's blaster was on the ground meters away. Useless. Mako stood, and Aqura realized she was going to try attacking the brute. She opened her mouth to scream something-

"Hey, kid! Quit trying to fight and start trying to win!"

What?

Tyresius Lokai dropped his handcuffed hands to his side and shot Aqura a wink, then tilted his head to the side.

Aqura glanced in that direction and saw the Lady of Pain with a growing number of guards. Their guns were still pointed at the woman who'd attacked their boss.

Right. That had probably been a mistake.

"That was a big mistake," hissed the rattataki.

Mako was running. Not scrambling or retreating this time, but running straight for the edge of the arena. When she looked up and caught Aqura's eyes, though, it wasn't with fear.

Mako had a plan.

The Lady of Pain said something. Aqura ignored it. Mako was running straight for them. The girl stopped at the edge of the arena, with Borga close behind. It was hard to see, with the ramps and walkways between the fighters and Aqura.

She had her carbonite spray and two micro-missiles left.

"Get away!" Mako's yell carried just a few meters upwards. Terrified.

No. That didn't make sense. Mako had a plan.

Didn't she?

Borga laughed like he was clearing his throat, now calmly walking towards his cornered prey.

They were barely visible through the grating. What was Mako doing? Was that the carbonite spray she was using? Why would she waste it, warding off-

Oh.

The carbonite spray cut off, and Mako dove past the blinded gammorean. Once she'd gotten out from under the walkway, she turned, raised her right arm, and activated two triggers.

The missiles hissed through the air above Borga's head and detonated against two supports Mako had emptied her carbonite spray onto. A wretched screeching followed the two explosions as the supports snapped and the ramp buckled under its own weight.

Fell Dargun gave an animal scream, "Borga! My sweet, precious boy!"

Ha. Aqura turned away from the fight, satisfied.

And came face to barrel with half a dozen blasters and a very angry Lady of Pain.

Oh, right. Them.

"He's still alive," called Mako from below. She'd collected her blaster pistol and was holding it on an immobilized Borga. "If you want to keep him that way, let my partner off for whatever stupid thing she did this time."

"Huh," Tyresius commented, "could have used a partner like her on a heist or two."

None of the blasters in Aqura's face moved. They were starting to get disconcerting. At least the Lady of Pain seemed angry. It was much more comfortable than before.

Still, "would it help if I said I was sorry?"

There was a loud "slap!" sound from beside Aqura. She chose to ignore it.

"No." The Lady of Pain hissed. "Nobody touches me like that." She raised a hand high, and the guards leaned into their rifles.

Micro-missiles at this close range could probably kill most of the nearby guards. Beskar should protect from most of that. After that, it would be a matter of causing a big enough distraction for Mako to get out alive.

"Wait!" Fell Dargun ran between Aqura and the Lady, hands up in the air on both sides. "Wait. Don't kill them." He turned to Aqura. "Just don't let her kill Borga. He lives, you live. Got it?"

The Lady of Pain didn't look any less angry, but Fell turned to her and said something about an arrangement, so Aqura leaned over the walkway railing and yelled down, "get up here, Mako!"

In her helmet, Mako said, "you know I've been listening the whole time, right? And would it have killed you to keep an eye on the fight? I could barely see anything most of that time."

Mako walked slowly up the ramp, and Aqura tried to distract herself from the blood on the slicer's left side. "You told me not to watch the fight at all."

"Yeah," Mako grunted, reaching the top of the ramp, "because I knew you'd get in trouble. I wasn't going to just ignore an advantage, though."

Then the girl was at the top of the ramp, and her sister was on top of her in an instant.

"Osik, Mako, your arm. Osik, osik."

"Yeah..." Mako's arm had a gash in it all the way down to bone. It looked like the axe had come in at a shallow angle, dug in, and stopped dead at the carbonite bracer. There was a massive chunk of flesh hanging off, and Mako was holding it down as best she could. Her face was bone white.

Aqura reached out and grabbed the first person in arm's reach. It turned out to be Tyresius, which wasn't useful, so she let go of him and grabbed one of the guards who was still holding a gun on her. He glared back at her, but there wasn't much he could do to stare down a T-slit visor, and besides, he hadn't shot her.

"Get my sister kolto. Now." She let him go, and pointed back to the little base inside the rock hill. He was already turning, but she still added, "lots of it!"

"Uh, goldie?" asked a voice behind her. She turned to see Tyresius holding up a barely-conscious Mako. He had his arm around her and a med pack in the other hand, and looked overwhelmed. "Little help?"

The med pack was in Aqura's hands before she thought about it. It was a tiny thing, barely the size of her palm. She carried four on her belt, Mako carried three. Honestly, using more than one usually meant a trip to the hospital was in order, anyway.

Pain killer.

Disinfectant wipe. It hurt Aqura to pull the skin back even a little, to make sure she wiped the sand away from the wound. Mako didn't even make a sound.

Next, kolto injection. Around the wound, in this case. There was no guarantee of circulation within it, so it was best to spread it around and hope.

Next, bandages. With enough kolto, those might even be enough.

At least she didn't have to use the extendable splint. Small mercies.

"If you don't mind," Tyresius prompted, hefting Mako towards her.

Aqura nodded and took her sister into an armoured embrace. It wasn't comfortable, but the mandalorian held her gently, and Mako wasn't in much shape to complain, anyway. In a few seconds, the armoured woman had gathered up the smaller girl and was carrying her back into the base.

A few of the guards still held guns on her. That was starting to annoy her.

"Point those guns away from my sister, or you never point a gun again," she told them. Then, "someone take me to the med bay."

They must have one, after all. Even if it was just for people who'd survived the Lady of Pain's affections.

They did. Mako didn't stir all the way there, didn't make a sound.

Aqura put her gently down on a clean white bed and helped the med-tech take off her bracers and hook her up to a kolto IV.

Then it was done. Everything Aqura could do, at least. All that was left was to talk to the Lady, kill Tyresius, and wait for Mako to heal up.

This wasn't going to be one of the fun kills. Tyresius seemed like a decent sort, for a lying con artist. Like her sister, Dar'vao. Maybe Aqura could challenge him in the arena, make him think he had a fighting chance. That would help make the Lady of Pain happier, too.

The guard running down the hall was a bit of a surprise. Instinct prompted Aqura's hand to her blaster, but the woman certainly wasn't looking to start a fight. She stopped a few feet away, hands on her knees.

"Help," she wheezed, pointing one hand back to the arena. "He..."

Aqura was already gone. Whatever was enough to send guards running was enough for her to hurry. It took her less than a minute for her to arrive back at the arena, blaster in hand.

It didn't look as bad as she'd imagined. The same damage to the walkway as before, a few people stumbling around with hands on ears, and not much else.

"You!"

The Lady of Pain stormed from the middle of a group of guards, finger pointed directly at Aqura. The hunter nodded, unsure of what else to do, except to make sure her blaster never pointed at the person in charge of all the guards.

"Tyresius Lokai escaped! He attacked us with a stun grenade and now he's gone!"

Shabla, it was really hot in the armour, and- "Me'bana?" she asked, a little lost. "I thought he was disarmed. And handcuffed. I was gone for five minutes!"

"One of his horns was fake," the crime boss hissed.

Kandosii, Aqura thought. That's one way to keep from being disarmed.

"That devaronian humiliated me in my own home. You're going to track him down and kill him for me."

There was yelling from the base, and another guard ran out to them all, stopping at the Lady of Pain's feet. "Stole a swoop bike," he gasped, "and a hyperdrive regulator."

"He's going for his ship," Aqura realized. That wasn't good. It was a long trip and a big repair job, so it would give her plenty of time to catch up, but it was a lot of time in the suns, and she was feeling faint from the run in the base.

"Then get him," snapped the Lady. She moved back way too close to Aqura, and her eyes shone that poisonous silver. She pressed something into Aqura's hand. "Find him. Track the bike. Kill him for me, slowly, and I may just forgive your disrespect."

"Treat Mako well, and I'll do better," Aqura replied. The device she'd been given showed a dot rapidly heading north. That was manageable. She pocketed it and continued, "have Mako give you our holonet address, and when you find someone worth fighting, I'll show you how a Mandalorian fights."

Now the light in the woman's eyes shone in a whole different way. That wasn't anger or greed. That was lust.

It turned out Aqura didn't like people who liked fighting more than her.

"Deal," the rattataki purred. Then she waved her hand dismissively and turned away.

"Ah," Aqura said, wondering if she should push her luck, "one more thing."

The look in the Lady's eyes when she turned around said that luck was indeed being pushed past breaking. Either way, though, the request had to be made, so Aqura made it.

"Can I get some more ice packs?"


	10. Tatooine 3

The last of the Sand People the ground with a muffled thump, then there was another resounding clang.

Aqura sighed, put her hand down, and blinked sweat out of her eyes. Then she climbed back on her speeder and took off through the canyon. It had been, what, an hour? More? It was a long time to spend in the sun, and every second was a little closer to Tyresius getting off-planet.

The Sand People were alright. Decent fighters, even if Aqura wasn't big on group fighting or ambush tactics. Then again, she'd never been as outgunned as the Sand People were. If she had, and she had a couple of friends, she'd definitely have tried something like their tricks, popping out from the sand while their prey was surrounded, or getting into just the right spot in the canyon to drop boulders on an intruder.

How had Tyresius made it past them without getting killed?

Maybe she should be asking around to see if they had his body lying around here somewhere.

Unlikely. The map said…

Osik.

"Hey, Mako. Can I get the map back on my visor? I think I'm lost again."

Silence.

Yeah, that was about what she'd been expecting. Mako was probably in full kolto immersion by now, in no condition to help Aqura with her tech problems. Overkill, but the Lady of Pain kept her bargains.

There was nothing else for it. Aqura pulled the speeder over again and stepped off onto shifting sand. At least the canyon wall meant shade. Tatooine was a nightmare with this heat. She took her datapad off her belt and activated the map, which had her position marked by satellite. Her position, and Tyresius'. Mako had rigged that up, connecting the data from the Lady of Pain's tracker to a proper map.

"What would I do without that girl?"

What would she do if she lost that girl? Mako had almost died today. To be honest, it had been Aqura's fault, and if it hadn't been for Tyresius, Mako probably would have kept fighting in a way that would have gotten her killed.

She'd have to change the way she was teaching Mako. Maybe Sho'cye would have a better idea how to fight a little more… however Mako and Tyresius probably fought? Yoru, his wife, used to fight that way, Aqura was pretty sure.

Maybe it was the way little Dar'vao had fought. She'd always been smarter than she was tough.

Honestly, Aqura wasn't looking forward to killing Tyresius. He'd saved Mako, in his own way and for whatever reasons.

Aqura was still trying to figure out whether she owed him for that or not. She hoped not.

The sands surrounding Aqura and her speeder exploded.

The Mandalorian leapt into the air with a shout of, "oya!" Blaster bolts flew in every direction. Theirs flew underneath her. Hers hit their marks, raining down on the primitive hunters with enthusiastic, if not unerring, accuracy.

The bodies hit the ground at the same time the last of the sand did.

Aqura nearly landed directly on top of the only survivor. Whoever it was, it made a sound loud enough to be a scream.

"Alright," Aqura told it, "now you're just getting predictable." She grabbed the being's arm and pulled it to its feet, then pointed back the way she'd come. "Go!"

The Sand Person ran.

"No point telling you to warn the others off, I guess," Aqura muttered, watching the being run. It was graceful, practiced and skilled in the sand. Aqura couldn't manage that. The sand kept shifting under her when she stepped.

The hunter sighed and got back on her speeder. One last glance at her map, and then she was off, to chase more interesting prey.

"Oya," she said again.

Aqura turned the corner with a little less space than she liked. She saw the ship first. Big, ugly, grey-green. Nothing to write home about. Then the supplies, boxes piled about twenty meters from the ship in a makeshift barricade. The splash of dull red – of devaronian skin, not blood – made Tyresius stand out like a comet in the sand. Beside the con-man stood a humanoid droid without much in the way of facial features.

Aqura didn't really bother to park the speeder. She slowed down, hopped off, and let the thing coast to a stop about halfway between the ship and the barricade of boxes. Aqura slid to a stop on the opposite side of the barricade, just a few meters from Tyresius and his droid.

Tyresius whistled. "That was quite an entrance." He glanced at his droid. "You're sure she's ready for take-off?"

The droid nodded. "I've checked the calculations four times, master. With shields at minimum-"

"Right, right," the devaronian interrupted. "Good enough. That just leaves our friend here to deal with."

Aqura resisted the temptation to cross her arms. "You're kidding, right? That utreekov back in the arena barely took Mako out of the hunt, and believe me when I say I'm a lot better at fighting."

Tyresius shrugged and actually turned and started walking away. "If you want something done right," he said, "you have to do it yourself."

As if on cue – probably actually on cue – the droid threw itself at Aqura. She didn't have time to blurt out, "wa-" before it hit her and she had to step back to avoid being knocked over.

What was with this man and throwing beings at her!?

She managed to get a hold on the droid's shoulder and hip and was starting to lift when she heard Tyresius yell, "out of the way, NK, I need a clear shot."

"Apologies, master!"

She decided against lifting. Tyresius seemed like exactly the sort who would shoot for a joint or other unarmoured bit.

Then it was time for another aborted, "wa-", as NK shifted out of her grip and grabbed her at the neck and hip, then flipped her right over itself.

A hundred and twenty kilos of armoured mandalorian slammed down on the ground behind NK with a thud and an, "oof!"

 _Kandosii,_ Aqura thought, and, _I love sand._

A single blaster shot cut off those trains of thought. Aqura had been right. Tyresius had aimed right for a weakly-armoured spot on her side. Good shot. Painful as a snapped rib, but a good shot.

Before the second shot could land, Aqura triggered her jetpack and skidded violently across the ground and into NK's legs, toppling him. Then, with a little help from her suit hydraulics, she planted her hands and launched feet-first into the air, coming down several meters away with the makeshift barricade as cover.

Now that she had a second to breath, Aqura drew her blaster pistol and fired at the still-prone NK. With it out of the way, she'd be able to deal with-

A roar of exertion interrupted her thoughts, and then a crate hit Aqura in the side, followed by two more. The entire barricade she'd been standing by collapsed on her, slamming her into the ground for the second time in the same minute.

"Osik!"

Her blaster was pinned, and, from under a box that had fallen on her head, she could see NK standing up from where she'd knocked him over.

Then two feet filled that same spot in her vision.

"Sorry, Goldie, but-"

Aqura triggered her carbonite spray. Some of it rebounded, some of it made it out of the pile of boxes. There was a blinding wash of grey that swept back into Aqura's face. Tyresius screamed and probably leapt back, and Aqura felt bearably cool for the first time all day. There was also a cracking sound from her suit's left arm, which maybe wasn't as bad as it sounded.

The suit's hydraulics went into overdrive again, and Aqura managed to push her way out of the collapsed barricade.

NK was waiting for her. At least Tyresius was busy hopping around on one foot. She must have hit the other one with carbonite.

Well, he wouldn't be worried about that for long.

Aqura was distracted from feeling bad about that by NK leaping at her. This time, though, she was ready. She activated her vibroblade-

There was a screeching thunk, then NK hit her again. She spun, tossed NK over her head, and hit him with a flurry of blasterfire as he hit the ground and skidded across the sand.

Her left bracer was a mangled mess, cracked from the left side of the wrist all the way until it wrapped once around her forearm. The crack itself originated from where her vibroblade had apparently come out in the wrong direction and come out the side of her bracer. The bracer was also leaking ignition fluid.

Osik. That was going to take work to fix. Aayha would kill her.

First, though, somebody else had to die.

Aqura spun around and aimed her blaster at Tyresius, but she hesitated.

The con man wasn't holding his gun. He had his hands up in surrender.

"Alright," he said, "you win. Let's cut a deal."

"A deal?" Aqura sighed. "You're kidding, right? I've been sent here to kill you and, no offense, you haven't done all that well trying to stop me."

Tyresius blinked. "I'm not sure how I'm not supposed to take offense to that, but listen."

Very slowly, he brought one hand down and opened one of his larger pouches. He pulled out a truly massive crimson gem, cut into a beautifully intricate star shape. The way it glinted, Aqura half-suspected Tyresius meant to blind her with it, in spite of a filtered visor.

"This is the famous Star of Aldera," Tyresius explained. "The most valuable gem in the galaxy."

"No, master," NK moaned, "not your most prized possession! We must fight!"

"Quiet, NK," the devaronian snapped. "We don't stand a chance. We never did."

"Got that right," Aqura agreed.

Tyresius nodded. "Alderaan's royal family would pay a fortune to get this gem back. Let me go, and it's yours."

"You're banking a lot on my moral compass here. I could always take that thing after I kill you, you know. Or maybe I'm not interested in money. I sure don't believe that thing's your most prized possession. And, if it is-"

Tyresius tossed the gem at her. The move surprised Aqura so much, she fired where Tyresius was rather than where he was going. By the time she shifted her aim properly, the gem had landed at her feet and exploded in a flash of light and pungent fumes.

The electronic read-outs in Aqura's helmet went dead.

OSIK!

Aayha was going to flay her alive.

"Girls," Tyresius called as he ran away, "come to daddy, it's dinner time!"

There was a chorus of answering howls, and a pack of akk dogs piled over a dune beside the ship.

Aqura laughed. She couldn't help it. Her right bracer was used up, her left was broken, her suit's electronics and hydraulics were offline, and her target was about to escape, leaving her at least a day's journey behind no matter how fast she managed to get out of here.

This was easily her favourite hunt ever.

It was hard to move the beskar'gam without the hydraulics. It was heavy, and the hydraulics fought her, but it was better than trying to get the suit off in time to fight the pack in just her undersuit.

She wrenched her arm this way and that, putting blaster bolts into the pack as best she could Several of the little beasties went down, but more kept coming, and Aqura threw herself to her knees just to keep them from taking her legs out from under her.

Four of them made it to her, and they latched onto her armour in a frenzy. Slobber splattered her faceplate and she heard teeth break on the beskar. Whichever dog did that didn't seem to care. They all latched on like vises and tried to tear her apart.

She shot another one to get both of her arms free, then slammed her arms down on the head of one of the two trying to get a grip on her torso. It drew back and shook it's head, and she hit it again, then shot it. Then, with room to maneuver her arms, she shot the other two.

Run to the ship, or get out of the armour?

Run to the ship.

She put one foot in front of the other, nearly overbalancing, but the weight dug her into the sand and helped her balance. By the time she'd taken ten steps, her right leg ached, courtesy of the sloped dune.

The ship was starting to light up and its engines began to hum.

Aqura made it to her speeder and slumped sideways onto it. Even that was an effort, because her armour wouldn't let her fall. Still, she got the seat under her arm and got her hands on the handles.

The bike revved up and dragged her along. It wasn't graceful, but it worked. She needed on that ship before it took off. The rest would take care of itself.

The ship was getting louder.

The engines made that familiar ignition sound. About to take off.

The speeder slammed into the ramp, Aqura letting go in time to fall face-first into the metal. As fast as she could, she stood and started walking. One foot in front of the other, each step made by kicking hard into the thigh of her armour, just to get the momentum to move it. Every few steps, she lost balance, tried to move her arms to catch her balance and instead slammed her shoulder against a bulkhead. The hydraulics were getting harder to move. Much harder.

"Come on, come on, you hunk of junk! Blast! I knew there wasn't enough power to take off!"

Aqura followed the sounds to the cockpit. It was slow going, but it wasn't like there was anywhere for Tyresius to run.

"Blast, I just- Blast!" There were a few retching sobs, then, "no. I- I'm ending this on my terms."

Aqura braced herself. There'd be something. A grenade, a self-destruct, or some sort of trap.

She heard a single blaster shot, and her aim zeroed in on the sound. Just through the next doorway.

At the doorway, she let herself hit the wall, blaster already pointed at the cockpit's chair. Her hand, at least, could move easily. No room for hydraulics there. Leaving her just enough mobility to draw a bead on the back of Tyresius' bald head.

She didn't shoot, though. She sort of wanted to see what else the slippery be'paklalat had left up his sleeve. What had that blaster shot been about?

"End of the line, Tyresius," she said.

No response. He didn't move, didn't turn around or speak. Just sat there, facing the controls.

"Oya," she said. "Lokai. Don't make me shoot you in the back."

Still nothing. She stepped forward, certain there was a trap somewhere. In the floor, or across the doorway, or somewhere. Every step was careful, with one hand on the wall, one holding her blaster on Tyresius, who still wouldn't turn around. It took almost a minute to get around to a look at Tyresius himself.

There was a scorch mark on the side of his head and a blaster pistol held in his limp hand.

Aqura stared.

Tyresius Lokai had… killed himself? The Tyresius Lokai who crashed a ship on this planet, bribed a bounty hunter for his ship, fled Aqura and Mako to the Lady of Pain, conned Mako into taking on a fight barely in her abilities, then snuck out of there with the piece needed to fix his ship and nearly fought a Mandalorian to a standstill once she caught up with him?

"Jehaat," she declared.

His blaster came out of his hand when she pulled on it. His head lolled when she nudged him, and his eyes didn't move when she checked them. He was definitely dead.

No way. There was just no way. Try as she might, though, she couldn't see the trick. She took the blaster and fired it once, just to check that it was real. Then she took off her glove and rubbed at the scorch mark on Tyresius' head.

She froze with her fingers splayed across his head.

He was cold. Very cold. Not dead body cold, which wouldn't be all that noticeable on Tatooine, but refrigerator cold.

Had Tyresius stashed somebody's body to fake his own death?

That made a lot of assumptions about how well she could tell the difference between devaronians, but, to be fair, she'd been fooled.

"Mirdala," she breathed in admiration. As last-ditch efforts went, it was brilliant. If he'd had more time, or if she hadn't taken off her gloves, she might never have known. "Alright, Tyresius. Come out with some dignity. This is over."

There was silence for a few seconds.

"I will blow this ship up, Lokai. You'll be just as dead either way. At least this way you'll get some last words. You seem to like those."

There was a grumbling sound near Aqura's foot, and then a tile shifted and clanked aside, revealing Tyresius Lokai's horn and a half.

The devaronian looked more aggravated than scared as he stared down Aqura's blaster pistol, and the look didn't change while he crawled up into the cockpit.

"You're the toughest, most persistent bounty hunter I've ever met." He stood up on the other side of his little hide-hole. "I have only one thing left to say."

Aqura nodded, wondering if she was about to be tricked again.

"Give me a job!"

Aqura blinked.

"Spare my life, and I'll dedicate it to working for you. How's that sound?"

Aqura reached up with one hand and knocked on her helmet, just to make sure her ears were working properly. "I'm sorry," she said, "say that again?"

"I'm tired of running. My fortune's gone, but I'm still hunted. I want Tyresius Lokai dead as much as anyone."

That wasn't hard to believe, and he sounded sincere. The hunter looked at the devaronian in the chair, then back at Tyresius. "I guess that's what that was about, then."

Tyresius nodded. "My body double. I figured… one last shot, right? And we can still use him! You can turn him in for my bounty; his DNA matches, so-"

"Wait." Aqura held up a hand. "So he really does look just like you?"

Tyresius stopped. "Yes," he said slowly, as if she were a little simple.

"Oh, thank Manda," she said. "I thought I- never mind. Look, what makes you think I'm willing to go back on my word and let you live?"

"You haven't shot me yet," Tyresius pointed out.

Well, no, she hadn't. It wasn't as if she was looking forward to killing the guy. That was the job, though, and she was honour-bound to go through with it.

"And you're going to get your kid sister killed without me."

"How did you know she's my sister?!"

The con man shrugged, seemingly ignoring the Mandalorian who'd just started looming a lot closer to him. "Mako, right? Looks like you're trying to teach her to fight like a Mandalorian, and it's not working. Take me on, and I can teach her everything I know."

"You couldn't stop me," Aqura hissed.

"No, but you're an exception. That grunt back in the Lady's compound? Run-of-the-mill, and look what almost happened. With me to guide her, Mako will never be in that sort of danger again."

It sounded good. It sounded too good. It was frustrating. Aqura didn't know whether to shoot Tyresius, punch him, or fall to her knees and beg him to keep Mako safe.

Emperor knew Aqura couldn't seem to keep anybody safe.

The last words of Mako's friend Anuli ran through her mind on repeat. He'd called for Mako and screamed.

Mako was too young to be repeating names at sunset. Now she had three.

In another five years, would she have nine, like Aqura? Or would Mako's name be on Aqura's list, and Anuli forgotten?

"It's a dangerous job, and I'm very experienced at it. Once I'm declared dead, I'll put my legendary skills, savvy, and contacts at your disposal. You'd never have to worry about your partner again."

"What's to keep you from jumping ship at the next spaceport?" Aqura asked without thinking.

Osik, she shouldn't be asking that. She should be shooting him. It was a matter of Mandalorian honour. What would her family say? What would Denn have thought?

What would Denn have thought about Aqura trying to keep her sister safe?

A small, sad laugh escaped her. She knew exactly what he'd say. He'd say what he'd said when she'd woken up, after they'd first met. "You can't save everyone. Giving everything to protect your family, though? That's mandokarla."

Tyresius had said something. Whatever it was, Aqura hadn't heard. It didn't really matter. She'd made her decision.

"Alright," said the hunter. She lowered her blaster. "You help keep Mako safe, and I let you live."

Tyresius smiled, victorious. It was a familiar-looking smile, though Aqura hadn't seen one like it since she was a child.

"So, I'll need a new name. After all, Tyresius Lokai is dead. What do you think of the name Gault Rennow? Has a nice ring to it..."

Aqura smiled.

"Not bad," she said, holstering her blaster. "We'll see what Mako thinks of it."


	11. Aurora 1

The holocomm flashed on to reveal a life-size version of Crysta Markon, already grinning and waving proudly.

"Well, lookee here," she crowed. "I got myself a hunter who's reached the last leg of the Great Hunt. Ain't I a lucky gal? Since you've made it all look so easy, how about something serious for your final mark? You ready for this, Cyar'ika? You're hunting Jedi Master Kellian Jaro-"

"OYA!" Aqura threw both fists into the air, laughing. "Now that's a finale! Does Uncle Sherkan know? Have you been able to get in touch with him?"

Crysta's smile faltered. "No, I haven't," she admitted. "It'd be a lot easier if you gave me a clan name, you know. I've asked around, but every time it seems like somebody knows who I'm talking about, they clam up tighter'n a hutt's pursestrings."

"I've got the same sort of problem," Mako added, tapping her implant. "And it's worse with Aayha and Shocye. It's like they dropped off the face of the galaxy. I might be able to find them, but between this and tracking down my biological..."

Mako went silent. Aqura did,too, hands dropping to her sides, and she met Gault's eyes. The con-man was hiding on the other side of the holo, outside of Crysta's view. All he did was shake his head.

"Osik," Aqura whispered. She waved a placating hand at Mako, who she knew was about to apologize for splitting her attention. It wasn't the girl's fault. It was Aqura's.

There was something she was missing. There had to be. Sherkan, Aayha, Shocye, they were as much Mako's family as hers, but Aqura had known them long enough, she should be able to figure out what they were doing.

She pushed away the crazy idea that her family had used the Great Hunt as a way to get rid of her. It was stupid, illogical, and nothing like them. Not like any of them. It was just Aqura being scared, like she always was.

Quietly, she moved over a few steps and took Mako's hand.

"If this is the last leg, that means Tarro Blood is after Master Jaro, too, and without support."

"Good," Mako said. There was a cruel glint in her eyes.

"Without support?" Crysta smiled conspiratorially. "Did you girls do something I shouldn't know about?"

There were a few shrugs and conspiratorial grins exchanged, then Crysta said, "good. 'Bout time that scum got what he deserves. You give him one for me, y'hear?"

"You got it, Crysta."

Aqura agreed wholeheartedly. She'd give Tarro a few for every hunter he'd cheated out of the Hunt.

"Then how are we getting to them?" she asked. "Where is Master Jaro, and what makes Blood think he can take on the Mandalorian Killer himself?"

Crysta shrugged. "I dunno what Blood's plan is, but I know what you're going to do. Kellian Jaro's on a Republic cruiser called the Aurora. The plan is to take out the hyperspace safeties and set the ship to take off."

Aqura raised a hand. "Hyperspace safeties?"

Crysta stared, but Mako held up a hand to quiet her. "I got this. Aqura, you know how slamming somebody hard enough kills them?"

"Sure."

"No, I mean, do you know _how_ it kills them?"

That… wasn't actually something Aqura had ever considered. Her first instinct was to say it squished them, but then she realized there was nothing to push them against, so that didn't work. She kept thinking, but she couldn't get away from the idea, even if it didn't make sense. Eventually, she shrugged and said, "I feel like it crushes them, I just don't know how."

Mako nodded, still waving for Crysta to be quiet. "Yeah, that's a bit right. Think of it like things not wanting to move, so when you push them too fast, everything you're not pushing on directly is crushing against the stuff you're hitting."

That didn't quite make sense. What about slamming into a wall? That was the opposite.

Wait. That was the opposite. Everything stopping when it wanted to go, instead of going when it wanted to stop.

"I think I get it. What's that got to do with hyperspace shielding?"

"When a ship goes to hyperspace, it basically slams itself and everyone on it faster than lightspeed."

Aqura's jaw dropped. "How does that not- OH."

That answered what hyperspace shielding was.

Mako grinned at Crysta. "She's got it. Don't worry."

"I don't want to be on the ship when it goes," Aqura said firmly. "So we use the shielding failure as a distraction so we can kill Blood and Jaro in peace, with the hyperspace jump to make it urgent?"

"Not exactly," Crysta said. "You'd be better off destroying the controls and lettin' the ship rip itself apart after you leave. Let the inertia kill the lot of 'em."

Aqura didn't know what inertia meant, but she figured it meant "squishing effect". That wasn't the important part.

"Nu draal," she said. "I'm letting Blood know who Braden was the one whose aliit brought him to justice, and there's no way I'm passing up a fight with a jedi."

It was an effort to ignore Gault's frantic gesturing, none of which signaled agreement.

"We'll figure out the rest when we get there," she decided, then turned to look at Mako. "Aurora blueprints?"

Mako flashed her a thumbs-up, and Aqura turned back to Crysta. "We'll handle the rest once we get on the ship. Mako can get us the codes to get us onto the cruiser. You just… just get ahold of Sherkan, if you can. I want to be able to tell him we took out Kellian Jaro when we get back."

"You got it, cyar'ika," Crysta said, and waved as the holo winked out.

Before Aqura could say anything, Gault grumbled, "we never do anything the easy way."

The Aurora was a massive battlecruiser in Republic orange and durasteel-grey. At the back, its engines were three times the size of the rest of the ship, and the front hosted hammer-shaped-

"Hammerhead cruiser, three hundred fifteen meteres long, four ion engines, crew complement: three hundred, armaments-"

"Mako." Aqura put a hand on Mako's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "You're scaring Gault."

Gault, of course, recognized a nervous Mako when he saw one. So he played his role.

"Me?" The devaronian scoffed theatrically, stealing glances out the cockpit window at the Aurora every half second or so. "Nervous? As if. I'm just feeling cautious about the, what'd she say, three hundred fifteen meter long Hammerhead cruiser armed with cannons as big as this ship and-"

"That reminds me," Aqura interrupted. "The friendly fire codes? We should probably use those."

"Y-yeah," Mako said, looking down at her console. Her eyes were still flickering. "Hey, Aqura? Bad news."

"Not what I want to hear," Gault said.

Mako ignored him and kept talking, working the console at the same time. "The ship's on alert. They captured an intruder - they're calling it an Imperial assassination attempt on the Jedi Master."

"Taro Blood beat us here," Aqura growled. "Can we still get in?"

"I've sent the codes, now it's just a matter of-"

"Independent patrol craft Cosmic Torrent: state your identity and intent."

The three of them traded worried looks, then Gault shrugged, said, "better than getting shot at," and replied, "battlecruiser Aurora, this is Cosmic Torrent. You have an intruder, repeat, an intruder. Master Kellian Jaro is in danger."

He shushed the womens' incredulous looks and waited for a reply.

The voice came back sharp, "repeat, Cosmic Torrent, state your identity and intent."

"Stars, woman," Gault yelled, "you've been boarded by a Mandalorian mass murderer! You have to go to alert and get Master Jaro to safety!"

"Cosmic Torrent, state your identity and intent, or you will be fired upon. There will be no further warnings."

Gault winked. Actually winked.

If he got them blown up, Aqura was going to kill him.

The con man gave a short yell and slammed a fist against the console. "Blast it, we're just a bounty hunter crew! We got a tip that the Mandalorian Taro Blood was going after your boss, and we figured we'd finally catch the scumbag. Is that enough for you?"

There were a few seconds of tense silence, then: "a tractor beam will bring your ship into the Aurora. You will be taken into custody until we can verify your story."

"Yes. Ma'am," Gault hissed, then slammed the button to turn off the comm.

He threw back his head and breathed a sigh of relief. Then he turned to his teammates and grinned. "Pretty good, huh?"

"You," Aqura spluttered, "I- what- you didn't even lie! HOW?"

Gault ignored her. "Mako. We need an alibi. Fast." The ship rocked as the tractor beam took hold of them. "Really fast. Mandokarla, if you've got any tricks you can hide, get them, and we'll make a big show of handing over our blasters. Mako, we need a Republic officer, at least Captain- Mandokarla, now! - and he's got to be convincing. Our cover is that we've been hired to track down Taro Blood, and SIS tracked him coming here. That's all we tell them. Keep it simple. Let me do the talking. Got it?"

Aqura kept listening as Gault figured out a clean story to explain why they'd flown straight at a battlecruiser, but she was focusing on trying to figure out what she could use that might be subtle enough to bring onto the ship "unarmed". She strapped a small vibroblade to her thigh, took a couple extra refill canisters for her flamethrower, and then stopped to think.

They were a pretty bare-bones operation, weren't they? Osik, she'd been insisting Mako get a helmet for ages now, since the first time the girl had gotten hit with an EMP.

With a sigh, Aqura leaned against the storage locker. It wasn't hard to guess where the funds were going. Kolto wasn't cheap, and Aqura spent every spare moment chasing one fight after another.

After this, though, things would change. Braden and Jory would finally be avenged. Mako would have closure and Aqura could finally look her family in the eye again.

If they found her family. And… what if Mako left after this? After winning the Great Hunt, they'd all be set. Mako wouldn't need Aqura anymore, with that kind of reputation. And if she left, Aqura would have to send Gault with her, just so she'd be safe. Then how would Aqura find her family? She wasn't a detective. She wasn't that kind of hunter. If Mako left, and Gault, and she never found-

"Hey, Aqura, whatcha looking for?"

The armour muted Aqura's flinch. She turned around with forced slowness and gestured at the locker. "Nothing," she said. "Just thinking about how little we really seem to have in here."

Mako made a face. "You've got a blaster, vibroblade, flamethrower, grappling line, carbonite spray, mini-missiles, and a jet pack. Osik, your helmet's got more tech in it than my head now, if you'd start using it… what's wrong?"

Mako's change of tone caught Aqura by surprise, especially since the girl wasn't able to see anything past Aqura's helmet.

Everything came rushing to Aqura's lips, they even formed around the first word, then, like running out of fuel, they didn't make it the last stretch.

"... nothing."

Mako gave her a long look. She knew Aqura was lying. People always knew. The helmet helped, the synthesizer really helped, but Mako could still tell.

She let it go, though, and turned away. Somehow that hurt more than if she'd tried to pry.

"Mako."

The girl turned back. She had an eyebrow raised. Concerned, not curious like it usually meant.

Say it. Just a few words. 'You won't leave me, will you?' Mako would say no, and Aqura could stop worrying.

Unless she didn't. Unless she said she'd be leaving as soon as the Hunt was over. Unless…

"This is for you," she managed, reaching into her pocket for a small stun grenade. Small enough to conceal, not a huge blast radius. Useful in a pinch.

Mako frowned at the thing, taking it in two fingers. "What's this? A marble?"

"Stun grenade. If you need it, it'll release a blast powerful enough to blind anyone looking at it, cause a few ringing ears. It's not much, but it might make a difference."

This time, the eyebrow meant skepticism. "Aqura, I'll be right beside you all the way. If we run into something you can't handle, I doubt this'll help."

Another long pause as Aqura's brain tried to come up with something to say other than, 'we might not always be together.' After long seconds, it settled on, "still."

Mako's eyebrow didn't lower at all, but she shrugged and pocketed the grenade. If something went wrong - and something always did - at least she'd have one more trick up her sleeve.

"Hey!" Gault waved down at them from the top deck. "Are you two ready? We're about to-"

The ship rocked slightly as it touched down.

"Mako," Aqura asked, "hangar blueprints?"

Mako nodded, her eyes flickered, and seconds later Aqura had a map of the Aurora's hangar on the inside of her visor. It was a plain, square thing with a crew entrance at the far corner from the ship entrance. Any crates or barricades were part of aftermarket use. It wasn't much, but at least Aqura would know which way to face when she left the Cosmic Torrent.

"Thanks."

Mako smiled, then she looked over to where Gault was descending the stairs and said, "names are Captain Geff Golin, Agent Chester Schott, and Pnar Denna, but I'm still working on the credentials, and don't ask me to fake a call, alright?"

Gault nodded and walked past the both of them to grab his blaster. "Good job, kid," he said, but other than that it was straight to the armoury, straight to the door.

"Good job with what?" Aqura looked between the two of them, dragged along to the door by simple group mentality. "What are you two doing?"

"We," Gault said, pointing a quick finger around, "need a cover story, or they're going to strip us down and take us straight to your jedi master, unarmed. We're putting together something, just enough to get them to drop their guard. Then you can do what you do best. Sound good?"

Aqura made a face behind her helmet. "No. I'd rather not shoot them when they think we're friends."

"Fine," Gault shrugged. "Then I'll do it, and you'll have to join in or I'll get shot. Deal?"

"You can't warn everybody before you shoot them," Mako said, patting Aqura's shoulder.

Then Gault opened the door and the three of them filed out, armed to the teeth on a ship filled with hundreds of enemies.

They let Aqura go first.

There were only five soldiers waiting for them, which meant either they'd fallen for Gault's trick, or Aqura should be insulted.

The leader of the squad raised her rifle and said, "we didn't fall for your trick, assassin."

Aqura was insulted.

Twice.

"I'm not an assassin," she snapped, hoping the indignation would show through her synthesizer. "We're bounty hunters."

Mako and Gault were smart enough to take cover behind her, but five republic blaster rifles at this range wasn't something anybody wanted to be hit with, no matter what armour they were wearing. When this started, they'd need to move fast.

The squad leader, a zabrak woman with long horns, snorted. "Doesn't matter to me what you call yourself. All of you, put down your weapons and come quietly. You'll get a nice cell and a fair trial. It's better than you'd do for us."

"Mm, she is right," Gault said.

"Gault," Aqura said, "shut up. Mako, behind me. Lady, let me explain something to you: Taro Blood dies today. Master Jaro has a price on his head and a reputation for being an ori'verd. I'm going to fight him. Maybe I'm going to kill him. That means you have some choices. You can let me through, and me and Mako will settle Taro's debt, then Master Jaro's bounty. Or, you can try to stop us, and this ship goes down with your corpses inside."

From the fidgeting of two of the soldiers, Aqura guessed she hadn't properly conveyed how much she didn't like option two. These soldiers looked like laandur. If anything, maybe the zabrak would make her tired for the real deal.

The soldier snorted. "You can go to-"

A blaster bolt caught her in the throat, and she died before she hit the ground. Aqura grimaced as she shot the next one and Gault and Mako claimed another two. She'd been aiming for the woman's eyes. At twenty paces, that was bad even for a quickdraw.

The last soldier died before Aqura could finish her thought and long before he reached his comm.

All five of them hit the ground so close together that it sounded like an echo in the cramped hangar.

Mako and Gault stepped out from behind her and towards the hangar exit.

"That was horrible," Mako said, stepping over the first of the bodies.

Aqura had to agree. She'd expected at least one of them to get a shot off. Hopefully the rest of the ship wouldn't be so easy.

"Yeah," Gault agreed, shooting a glare back at Aqura. "What is it with you and warning people before a fight?"

Aqura opened her mouth to explain the difference between a bounty hunter and an assassin, Mako gasped. "Get me to a terminal, now!"

There weren't any in the hangar. Aqura had checked.

"Out," she ordered, and ran for the door. When it didn't open fast enough, she grabbed the edges, pushed it open, and stepped into the hallway.

Empty corridor. A couple of soldiers. Three doors.

More corridor. One door, way down and on the hangar side. And a terminal.

She looked back the other way. Those soldiers were on their comms.

"OYA!" she yelled, and the soldiers turned just in time to see her raise her blaster pistol. With one hand, she waved Mako and Gault towards the terminal behind her, then fired at the soldiers.

Specifically, at one of the soldier's legs. When they hit, he stumbled and crashed into his partner. Then Aqura charged. A sprint, helped along by a burst of her jetpack, slammed her straight into both soldiers and knocked them to the floor. In another half second, she had the uninjured one disarmed.

He stared at the blaster aimed at his face.

"Su cuy," she said. "Listen, we just killed five of your teammates, and they already had guns pointed at us when the shooting started. Next, we're going to blow up your ship. If I kill you, I'm going to have to kill your friend or let him wait for the ship to be destroyed. You see my problem?"

The soldier gulped and shook his head, very slowly.

Aqura grunted. "I don't want to kill you. If the rest of the crew are as laandur as I've seen so far, I don't even want to fight them. I don't have to kill your injured friend. He can't follow us. You can. But he can't make it to the escape pods without you. You die, he dies. You don't die, maybe you try to raise the alarms, and then I have to kill any of your friends I see. So, what's it going to be?"

"Mandokarla," Gault called, "Mako says alarms are mostly disabled. Whatever that means."

The look the soldier gave her was so hopeful that she almost laughed. Then she finally looked at the injured man. "And you? You want to live?"

The injured man, for his part, looked like it was a good choice she'd shot him. He snarled at her through grit teeth.

"If it helps," she offered, "after this, I'll be famous. You can track me down and get a second shot, if you want."

The man, a human with intense green eyes and a birthmark on his cheek that wrinkled when he growled, "I'll do that."

"Oya," Aqura said happily. "Now usen'ye." She waved them away, and they hobbled off t together.

"Move fast," she called after them. "The hyperdrive is going to go."

There was the audible sound of a hand meeting a face.

It was Gault. It was always Gault.

"You told them where we're going next. I can't believe you're still alive."

"It's fine." Mako jogged over to Gault, then tilted her head towards one of the other halls and started walking The others followed. She sounded exasperated when she continued, "I shut off all inter-sector communication on the ship. At most, he'll warn a couple dozen people he passes. Then Aq- Mandokarla gets to deal with them."

"Thanks!"

Gault shot her a glare, but it didn't last long. They were too busy hurrying after Mako.

They made it past three corridors, into a new sector of the ship, before Aqura insisted on taking point. As soon as there were better odds of enemies in front than behind, she wanted to be there, too.

Just in time. Soldiers started appearing around corners by the time they hit the sector after that, groups of four or eight that initially went down quickly because they were taken by surprise. A minute later, they were warned.

"I thought you said they couldn't contact other sectors."

Aqura threw a helmet from a previous squad around a corner, then swung herself into the next corridor, shooting at all the soldiers who hadn't been nervous enough to be fooled by the decoy. Then the trio shot the more gullible ones.

She looked at Mako for an answer to Gault's question.

Mako shrugged. "I guess they're sending runners. Nobody's gotten past my quarantine yet."

Gault grumbled. "How much further?"

Aqura looked at her helmet's heads-up display to try to answer the question and frowned.

"Hey, Mako, can you make this thing change so the way we're pointing is up? I'm getting turned around."

Mako shook her head. "Not in real time. That's just a picture on your visor at this point. It's too much effort to do more than that while…" she gestured vaguely at the bodies they were stepping over. Then, at Gault's impatient look, she said, "two more sectors. That's barely three minutes walk, without interruptions."

The look on Gault's face said exactly what he thought of the "interruptions" so far.

Aqura giggled. Just a bit. Then she snatched one of the grenades from a body they were passing and tossed it down a corridor.

What did those guys expect when they came running down the halls?

The explosion rumbled and Gault and Mako winced. Mako made a point of not looking down the hall.

Aqura did. It wasn't pretty.

Thinking of which -

"Mako, how much time should we set on the hyperspace… thing?"

"The manual, unnavigated, unshielded jump?"

That sounded about right. She nodded.

Mako shrugged, which wasn't the answer Aqura was looking for.

"I don't want to blow everyone up indiscriminately," the Mandalorian insisted. "They've got to have a chance to escape."

"So do we," Gault muttered. He moved to huddle by the wall and pulled out his holocomm. "Here, send me a blueprint."

She did, and a blue map flickered into place on Gault holocomm, but the noise in the corridors had Aqura nervous, and she pushed on the man's shoulder.

"We should keep moving. I don't want to get surrounded."

Gault nodded, and Mako stepped back to walk beside him without any prompting. If he was going to have his head down, he needed somebody watching his back. He'd insist on it.

They made it out of the sector without any trouble. Mako's hack had worked wonders, keeping the whole ship from swarming them. She deserved a treat after this. Maybe some light armour for underneath her clothes? They'd be able to afford it after this.

"So what are you doing?" Mako asked. "Calculating escape routes?"

Gault nodded. The blueprint spun and rotated in the air, then Aqura turned back to keep leading the pair of them.

Two soldiers, this time, coming from the place they were headed. That wasn't a good sign. It meant the next sector was already notified about them.

She shot both of them, grunting in surprise when a shot took her in the thigh in return. It didn't hurt to get hit in beskar, not usually, but there was always that instinctive tensing.

"You had a score to settle in the cell block, right?"

"Hells yes, we do," Mako snarled.

Gault sighed. "Alright, but after this you can't let things get so personal. We could be in and out in less than thirty minutes if we just set the timers and ran. Searching over… here… then the bridge, that's another - no… alright, that gives us an hour and thirty-five minutes, plus however much time you want to gloat. Set the timer for two hours."

Aqura made a face. "Two hours? Won't- get down!"

The Mandalorian stepped back in between her family, put a hand on each of their shoulders, and shoved hard.

Then she took three blaster cannon bolts in the chest and hit the ground hard.


	12. Aurora 2

"Aqura!"

"Osi'kyr," the Mandalorian grunted. She turned her head to see Mako crouching behind a group of crates. Gault must be on the other side, probably with more crates and cannonfire lighting up his face.

Aqura's head hurt. She'd slammed it hard against the back of her helmet. There was probably blood.

What the shab was this room, anyway? Who was the person shooting at them from above, and why was there an above to shoot from? Everywhere else they'd been was strictly two-dimensional.

"Aqura, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mako," Aqura groaned. "Just playing dead until my head stops aching. I need a cushion in this thing… and you should call me Mandokarla on the job."

Mako's expression softened into relief. That was good. That made Aqura feel better. Not physically, of course. Her chest was going to be a bruise later. Still, way better her than Gault or Mako.

Her eyes followed the metal struts near Mako all the way up to a catwalk above, one that apparently extended down - no, wait, that was further into the room - further than she could see without moving her head.

"Hey, verd," she asked, "who's shooting at us?"

"Not many," Gault said conversationally. "Just well-armed. I think there's three of them."

"I think it's the chief engineer," Mako muttered, then swore as a crate by her head rattled with blasterfire.

"Tion'haat? Sounds like my kind of engineer. Do we have a spot open on the team for that?"

"He just shot you!"

Aqura grinned at that and tried to move her head in such a way that she could catch a look at the guy and not have him shoot her again. She didn't manage it, mostly because she was sure moving her head any more would be way too noticeable, but from all the blasterfire coming out of there, she was pretty sure where he was.

"Alright," she said conversationally, "hold for something kandosii."

"Better you than me," Gault muttered.

Aqura snorted, then kicked up off the ground. As soon as her feet her over her head, she planted her hands and launched herself into the air and brought her feet forward as fast as possible. Once she'd passed horizontal again, she ignited her jetpack and launched herself at the engineer she honestly had yet to see.

She did lift her head in time to see the catwalk railing and dodge it, after which she slammed into one of the men standing on it. Whoever that was, was dead. No question.

Aqura, on the other hand, had to keep moving, so she tried her best to hit the floor feet-first and draw her blaster. She was half-successful, and hit the wall bordering the catwalk back-first. She also dropped her gun.

It wasn't the best situation, having her back to a wall with a cannon and a blaster rifle pointed at her, with no pistol of her own. It also wasn't actually much of a problem. Hand empty, Aqura raised her left hand and activated her flamethrower.

Flames hit both Republic soldiers, and they screamed as much in fear as pain. It only took a few steps and some very quick work with a vibroblade to make sure their ends weren't too painful.

The flesh across the lower half of one man's face was blackened and cracked with char, and Aqura tried to be careful as she pulled her blade from his throat. She let him down gently on the catwalk, and even then some of his skin flaked away as ash.

He'd done his job well. All three of these men had. It wasn't their fault she was just better.

"Hey, Mako," she called down, "how far to the engines or whatever?"

Mako sighed loudly. "The hyperdrive controls aren't technically part of the engine, those are-"

"Yeah, but how close are we?"

Mako glared up at her and Aqura tried to give her an unimpressed look back. It didn't work so well with a helmet on.

Well, upsides and downsides. Less blaster holes, can't sass friends. It was probably worth it, overall.

"Three rooms over and up an elevator, except this door is about as broken as it can get. There should be one up there you can use, though."

Aqura looked around and, sure enough, there was a small door that led onto the catwalk from another room. She pointed and said, "that one?"

Mako looked ready to say something rude, but Aqura beat her to it and fired a grapple line down to her and Gault. "Climb up. We'll deal with this, send our warning, and go get Tarro."

Mako gave the line a skeptical look, then grabbed it and… well, the less said about her attempt to climb it, the better, but there was a reason she was a slicer and not a front line soldier. Eventually, Aqura took pity on her and just pulled the line up with Mako standing on the piton on the end of it. Then she did the same for Gault. Her arms burned by the end of it, and there was no way she could have done it twice without the armour, but she was proud of the accomplishment.

By the time Gault made it up, Mako was already in the next room, fiddling with the controls. There were a lot of them, and she was completely ignoring the console for something on the wall that was all curved metal and, well, engine-looking stuff.

After almost two minutes, Mako stepped back and said, "alright. Now help me up."

Aqura glanced back at the catwalk. "You mean help you down."

"No." Mako pointed up at the roof above the controls she'd been working with, up at a hatch in the roof. "I need a couple of minutes up there, with the hyperdrive engines themselves. Then we should be done here."

Aqura exchanged a shrug with Gault, then climbed up the two rungs and tried the hatch.

"Right," Mako said when the hatch didn't budge. "The chief engineer should have the key-"

She cut off when Aqura popped her vibroblade and used it to cut out the hatch's lock.

"Or we could do that."

The hatch opened easily, and Aqura helped Mako up into the next room, which was filled with all sorts of pipes, whirring mechanical bits, and a nerve-wracking humming sound.

There was a lot of power in this room.

"How long will this take?" Aqura asked, peering past all the grey metal and trying to catch a glimpse of a wall. How big was this place?

"I just need to find the right switches and throw them. They shouldn't be far…" Mako looked like she was having the same thoughts as Aqura was, scanning back and forth across the room like the right interface really should just be there. "Just let me…" Her eyes flickered for a second, then she nodded. "Right!"

A few steps took her over some pipes, then she turned left around what Aqura was pretty sure was an engine, and a few seconds later, she said, "done. We'd better go."

Aqura took her hand to lower her down through the hatch, and Mako caught the first rung and lowered herself the rest of the way. Then, once she'd moved away, Aqura dropped herself through.

She landed with a clang that made her wince, and stood up to both Mako and Gault staring at her.

"Nobody in armour that heavy should be able to land that quietly," Mako said firmly.

Aqura frowned. "They'd have heard me in the next room. That wasn't quiet at all."

"I don't know," Gault said, "I've never seen a Mandalorian land with anything less than an explosion for style."

Aqura shrugged and pointed at the nearest console. "We need to warn the crew. Will that work?"

Rather than answer, Mako darted over to the console, pressed a few buttons, and started talking.

"Listen up. The Aurora has been boarded and we've just sabotaged the hyperdrive and set it to manual jump. To the surviving engineers on board: junctions peth-III to senth-I have been torn out. You know what that means. Tell your superiors, and get off this ship. We're here for Tarro Blood and Master Kellion Jaro. You don't have much time."

Mako stood back, a grimly satisfied look on her face, just in time for Gault to lean in and press the comm button himself.

"And, Master Jaro? If you're thinking of abandoning ship with your crew, you might want to think about how easily we infiltrated your battlecruiser. I doubt anything less than the Mandalorian Killer himself will be able to stop us, and anybody we kill hunting you down is on your head."

He stepped back, too, nodding. "That should do it."

Aqura didn't like the way any of that had gone, but maybe that was for later. If she were to be honest, the idea that a Jedi would run from any fight, even one on a doomed ship, hadn't occurred to her, but putting all these deaths on Jaro's conscience? That wasn't fair.

And Mako had taken way too much pleasure in threatening the crew. That wasn't her. Mako didn't actually like hurting people, she just knew it was necessary for the job.

At the catwalk, the grapple line dropped Gault quickly to the floor and Mako followed him before Aqura even thought to ask, "this is the right way, right?"

"Yes," Mako called up. "Now hurry up."

Aqura sighed, stepped off the catwalk, and activated her jetpack just before she hit the ground. It didn't quite cancel her momentum, but she was practicing. She'd pick it up eventually.

After a few steps to catch her balance, she nodded at Mako.

Mako caught the meaning and stepped in front to lead the way.

The average soldiers they passed simply weren't anything to be concerned with. Most of them were running for the escape pods, but some were either determined to hit the intruders, or they wanted to get to the hyperdrive to fix it. The few that did meet the crew, though, were a little embarrassing, but it did give Aqura the chance to bring something up.

"Mako."

The girl didn't even notice. She'd set her shoulders and was barely slowing down for Aqura to kill whoever got in their way.

"Mako!"

Mako slowed enough for Aqura to catch up and Gault moved to cover them in case of any more attacks, but Mako didn't look happy about it.

"What, Mandokarla? We-"

"Do you want the kill?"

Mako's head snapped to face Aqura so fast, Aqura imagined the sound of a whip cracking. "What?"

"Do you want the kill? On Tarro. This is something we should have talked about ages ago, but I could never find the right moment. So, for Braden, because you were closest to him - he was your buir - do you want Tarro?"

Mako opened her mouth to speak. Then she closed it, took a deep breath, and turned with Aqura to shoot one of the soldiers coming down the hall. One shot, two from Gault, and two from Aqura. They only killed one of the soldiers, and the rest fled, but Mako missed entirely, and her hand shook. She didn't even lower it as the soldiers ran. She just watched her blaster shake in front of her for a few seconds, until Aqura reached out and wrapped the girl's hand in hers.

Aqura opened her mouth to say something to her sister, then realized that anything she was going to say, it would come out in Mando'a. That wasn't Mako's language, it wouldn't be the same. In the time it took her to come up with something to say, though, Mako began to cry.

A look to Gault had him grimace, but nod and move to cover the corner. They could spare a few minutes. Hopefully.

Beskar was a hard metal, and always cold. Not suitable for comfort of any kind. Even so, Mako leaned in when Aqura drew her into a hug. Tears dripped onto the charred gold chestplate, and probably just a little snot, too. That would scorch away in the next firefight. Mako took one last deep breath, and tried to pull away.

She got as far as arm's length, but Aqura didn't let go.

"Uh, kids, hate to rush you," Gault grumbled, "but…"

"I can't do it, can I?"

The question wasn't for Aqura. She stepped to the side and let Mako and Gault look at each other. Gault raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

Mako practically spat out the words, "kill Tarro Blood."

They all knew the answer. Mako, especially. It wasn't fair to Gault to make him say it.

He had to, though. Mako wouldn't admit it, and it was a matter of honour for Aqura to offer the kill to next of kin.

"You can kill him."

What!?

Aqura spun from facing Mako to look at Gault. The devaronian looked more regretful than happy, as if he thought he wasn't saying something they'd like.

He was right. Aqura didn't like it.

"But you can't fight him."

Wait.

Mako just nodded. "Of course," she whispered.

Gault rolled his eyes. "Is that what all the tears were about? You've got to stop thinking like helmet-head here and start looking to fight smart. I can only keep you two alive so long, doing what you do. Now, can we hurry? We can discuss dirty tricks on the way, if you really need to get some petty revenge at the last second. And I have a few things to say about petty revenge, too."

Aqura snorted. "Yes, uncle Gault."

Gault shot her a glare, then shooed them forward.

They kept up a running conversation on the way, as best they could with Gault practically pushing them forward the whole time.

"He's right. I can't fight him."

"I know, I just wanted-"

"Thank you. But- he's Mandalorian, like you, right? I didn't mean it that way! I just meant, an honourable death in combat is his thing, right?"

"... yes, but…"

"I think we should leave him. I want to talk to him, you know, to let him know what happened, but he should die in whatever cell they put him in."

"I don't know, Mako. Codes matter. Blood abandoned his, and look where that got him."

"Your code is yours, Mandokarla. Mine's different. I'm not a Mandalorian."

That stung, and it shut Aqura up. There wasn't anything she could say to that. After all, it was true. Mako wasn't Mandalorian. Her choices were her own.

That didn't mean she had to like them.

They reached the cell block exactly when Gault was expecting. It was a little uncanny. The whole place was empty, just filled with rows and rows of empty cells.

Except for one, the only one with a glowing red energy shield covering its entrance.

It was the first time Aqura had ever seen Tarro Blood in person, and she was struck by how boring he looked. The man had been stripped of his armour, leaving him with nothing but grey shirt and pants and a shock collar. His face was so… plain. Except for a blocky, brown tattoo following his cheekbone across the right side of his face, Aqura would never have glanced twice at him in the street.

This was the man who'd killed Braden and Jory? This man had made it to the end of the Great Hunt?

This man was about to die.

Tarro Blood looked up at them casually and got to his feet like he had all the time in the world. Smirking at Aqura, he asked, "so, you're still alive, hm? You might be worth killing after all, dar'manda. Hurry up and let me out of here, so we can settle this once and for all. Unless facing me as an equal frightens you."

Aqura held back a snarl. There was nothing she'd like more than to strip off her armour and beat the man to death with her bare hands, just to prove she could.

But this wasn't her fight. Mako had toryc kyr'amur - the right to the kill.

"Nar'sheb," she spat, and stepped back behind Mako.

Mako stepped forward, arms crossed and glaring right into the eyes of the man who killed her family. "Remember me?"

Tarro Blood sneered back. "Why would I care about an outsider child? At least your friend's clan was once Mandalorian. You're nothing. Your friends were nothing, just another obstacle keeping me from what I'm owed."

Aqura lurched forward to break the hut'uun's ribs one by one, but two things stopped her. First, Gault grabbed her shoulder. Second, Mako spoke.

It was cold, but it was furious. "What you're owed is a cold death when this ship is ripped to pieces, scumbag. We won. Braden won."

Kandosii.

Tarro Blood went red with anger. "You'll die! Jaro will tear you apart, you little wretch!"

Mako snorted. "Oh, yeah? I've been listening in. The only reason you're still in one piece is you surrendered as soon as you saw him. You're pathetic."

With that, she turned and walked away.

"No!" Tarro Blood punched the the energy shield. His glove sizzled and burned, but he punched it again. "You can't let me die like this! I'm Tarro Blood, you worthless piece of filth! I'm the future of the Mandalorians!"

"So long, slimeball," Mako muttered, but she stopped when Aqura stepped past her and came up face to face with Tarro Blood.

"Let me out, damn-"

"Tarro Blood," Aqura said in the tone of one pronouncing sentence. She unclasped her helmet and pulled it off. Through the shield, she looked the man in the eye. He shut up. "Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc. Gar digyc, ni ven'kemir cin vhetin."

Even through the red tint, Blood visibly paled.

"You- you can't! That's right, you don't have the right! You're dar'manda! No, come back here! I will not be forgotten! I'm Tarro Blood! Tarro Blood!"

Aqura slipped on her helmet as she left the room, the forgotten one still yelling at her back.

Mako slipped in beside her at the door.

"What was that?"

Aqura tried to smooth out the armour-weave cloth at her throat, and eventually had to stop and let Mako help before saying, "which part?"

"'You're forgotten, I walk pristine snow?"

That caught Aqura up for a second, until she realized it was a decent translation of what she'd said into Basic.

"I'll explain on the way." The three of them hurried for the bridge, out into halls that were a lot straighter than most of the rest of the ship. All roads lead to command, it seemed. "Gault, how much time do we have left?"

"A lot more than we would if you'd stopped to fight," Gault said drily.

"Good. Hopefully everybody's evacuated by now."

Mako cleared her throat. Aqura bit her lip, then tried to see if she could find the words. "That was… a cleansing ritual, I guess. Everything that man did, Mandalorians are bound by honour to forget. It's not dar'manda so much as dar'cuyir. No longer existing. Not just dead, but truly gone."

Then Mako asked the question Aqura didn't want to hear.

"Dar'manda? Not Mandalorian? He called you that. What does it mean?"

Aqura picked up the pace, forcing Mako and Gault to keep up at a jog. She didn't want to answer the question. She didn't even want to think about it.

She couldn't help it, though. It burned in her mind.

Dar'manda. Not Mandalorian. Not like others thought, not like aruetii, the outsiders, but dar'manda - cast out and shamed. To be everything a Mandalorian was not.

The opposite of Mandokarla.

"Anything that prisoner said doesn't matter anymore," she said, and stepped up her pace enough that neither of them could ask more. She didn't even see their faces again until they reached the bridge, and when they stopped, Mako was too busy catching her breath to say anything.

Aqura took stock of the situation while her friends rested.

The three were standing on a raised platform at the bridge's entrance, one with stairs on either side leading down to the main of the bridge. As for that, most of the bridge was empty, like a room waiting to be filled, with just computer terminals lining the walls and the in a row through the center.

Why there were two clear paths to the front of the bridge, Aqura had no idea. She supposed it gave them an option for how to approach the the raised area that took up a third of the bridge, the entire front where the windows showed endless space ahead.

Standing at the front, right in front of the windows, were two people.

Why two? One of them had to be Master Jaro. The other one, as best Aqura could tell, was a child, a girl younger than Mako by several years, and smaller, too.

Both figures were dressed in robes.

The girl's identity clicked.

Apprentice. No, the Jedi had their own word for it, Aqura just couldn't remember it. Hm. Jet'ad, then.

"Ready?" she asked.

Gault gave one last gulp of air, then stood up straight, and Mako managed the same a second later.

Good. They'd need their breath for this next part.

Together, they crossed the room and came up in front of the two Jedi. It wasn't Aqura's favourite position, barely meters from two people with lightsabers, but the stories said Jedi could cover most distances in less than a second, anyway. It couldn't hurt to explain themselves, maybe get the kid out of the way beforehand.

Master Kellian Jarro was a bald man with a look about him that said, "I'm better than you, and I can kill you." At least the girl, a waif of a thing with the yellow skin and tattoos of most mirialans, had the decency to look worried.

Master Jarro started talking before Aqura even reached the top of the ramp to him. In a voice that confirmed everything his face hinted at, he said, "you've caused quite a bit of trouble, but I'm afraid it's over now. I'll ask you to drop your weapons and surrender."

"So, if we do surrender," Gault wondered offhand, "we don't have to fight a Jedi, right?" At Mako's glare, he raised his hands in mock defense. "Kidding, kidding!"

Aqura grinned. Gault might pretend to be a coward, and he was definitely scared, but he'd stick with them. He was reliable, in his own way.

"Think of it this way, Gault," she said. "We get to fight Master Kellian Jarro." To the man himself, she said, "you're a legend, Mandalorian Killer. I'm honoured."

Master Jarro, however, looked vaguely disgusted, like he'd just been served a meal with slightly wilted greens and was thinking of sending it back. He raised his hand and, with a casual wave, commanded, "you will drop your weapons and surrender to me."

Aqura reached down to drop her blaster and surrender before she even realized what surrender would mean for Mako and Gault. Mako's implants would make her valuable. Gault's identity would be discovered, and he might be killed.

Instead of dropping it, Aqura's hand tightened on her blaster and she drew it from her holster.

Mako copied the motion, waving her hand and sing-songing, "you will realize what a complete idiot you are."

Aqura snorted, and the synthesizer in her helmet made it sound like static mixed with a bantha sneeze.

"Master?"

The jet'ad finally spoke, and she sounded so worried and innocent that Aqura's heart broke a little. At that age, Aqura had had a few kills to her name. This girl probably had yet to see her first hunt.

And Master Jarro's expression changed, too. He stood up a little straighter, held himself less like he was looking down on them and more like he was powerful enough to stop them. Held himself like a protector. "Be still, Padawan," he said, "I will take care of this. These bounty hunters are of stronger will than the other one." Then he looked Aqura right in the visor and said, "listen, I know the Mandalorians want me dead, but the Battle of Coruscant was years ago. Revenge profits no one. I implore you not to throw your life away. Abandon this hunt."

Aqura looked over to the padawan girl, then back at Master Jarro.

"I'll make you a deal."

"Wait, what?"

Aqura held out a hand to shush Mako, then thought twice. She lowered that hand and held up the other to the Jedi Master so she could turn her head away and look at her partner.

"Do you need in on this fight? Do you NEED it?"

Mako looked confused. "Well, no. Why? You're not planning something clever to win without fighting him, are you?"

Then Aqura looked to Gault. "And you'll sit this one out, if possible, right? If it means not getting anything chopped off?"

Gault definitely didn't like the phrasing, because he gave her a very unimpressed look, but he shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, I tend to like my parts attached."

"Right." Finally, Aqura turned back to Master Jarro and lowered her hand. "Like I said, I'll make you a deal. My family sits out on this, and so does your padawan. No matter who wins, they walk away clean."

"What, no!"

"Master, please, don't."

Both Mako and the padawan went ignored, though. For Jarro's part, he looked to be considering it, until his eyes came down on Aqura's left hip.

Oh.

Right.

"Why should I believe the word of someone who wears a trophy of my people?"

The lightsaber.

Aqura drew the thing, slowly, with her left hand, and held it out to Master Jarro. He tensed, then his face went smooth again. Controlled.

"This isn't mine," Aqura said. "It's not a trophy. When a Mandalorian dies, sometimes there isn't anything left, so we keep pieces of armour, or a weapon, to remember them by. I know Jedi aren't the same, but this belonged to a padawan named Yadira Ban. She died bravely, protecting somebody weaker than her and serving the Republic. This lightsaber… under better circumstances, I'd ask you to take it back to your people."

Master Jarro stared at the lightsaber, his face unreadable, but it was the mirialan girl who spoke.

"Yadira? You killed her?"

Aqura's breath caught as she remembered the defiant young twi'lek, but she said, "yes."

"She didn't!" Mako stepped forward, glaring at Aqura rather than either of the Jedi. "A Sith killed Yadira, and A- Mandokarla agonized over it for ages afterwards. And you," she pointed at Aqura, "should stop blaming yourself for it. Now oya or whatever, we're on a hunt. Act like it."

Everybody was staring at Mako.

"I see," Master Jarro said slowly. "You did not kill Padawan Ban, but you are here to kill me."

Aqura shrugged and turned back to the Jedi. "That's the job. Just you, though. I'm happy to let your padawan go."

"Master, you can't-"

"Thendys. Take Padawan Ban's saber. This woman has come a long way to deliver it to us."

Padawan Thendys went quiet and nodded, but she moved hesitantly, scared to come close to Aqura. And… she was angry, too. Scared and angry. That would be a dangerous combination, if she fought, for her and for them.

She stepped back after she took the lightsaber, moved away to attach it to a clasp at her hip.

At least it was going back to the Jedi. Yadira Ban deserved that much.

"You and me, then?" Aqura asked.

Master Jarro took his lightsaber from his hip. "Very well. But if your… family attacks us after your defeat, we will be forced to defend ourselves."

"Hear that?" Aqura asked. "I die, you take my helmet and head straight for the Cosmic Torrent."

"The Cosmic Torrent?"

Aqura grinned at Master Jarro. "Mako chose the name. She thinks it sounds kandosii. Ready?"

Master Jarro waved his padawan away, and Gault and Mako stepped away at the same time. Then he ignited his lightsaber.

That was as good a signal as any. Aqura skipped backwards, firing her blaster pistol at the Jedi Master.

He was expecting it, of course. Who fights a Jedi and doesn't go for distance at the first opportunity? So, when he stepped forward, blocking every blaster bolt as he did, she bent a knee and spun to kick out his legs.

He jumped, and she would have followed with an uppercut, but his feet came down on her chest and slammed her backwards.

Aqura rolled, leapt, and activated her jetpack, already firing a missile at the Jedi.

It missed. He sidestepped it and leapt right after her, past the missile while it was still in flight.

Aqura laughed and caught the Jedi's lightsaber on her gauntlet, then smacked him in the face with her blaster pistol. Without ground beneath him, he didn't have any way to dodge.

First hit, Aqura.

She laughed again, grabbed his wrist with one hand and levered the other off his shoulder, and reoriented to face her jetpack down.

On the way down, he let go of his saber, spun it around, and caught it reverse-handed to swing it at her arm.

She was pretty sure he couldn't hit her weakly-armoured joint from that position, but he was the Mandalorian Killer. It wasn't worth the risk.

Her jetpack disengaged and she shoved, hard.

His lightsaber skittered off her beskar, then they both hit the ground.

In the time it took Aqura to roll off her momentum and get to her feet, Master Jarro was already on her again, aiming at the weak armour under her shoulder joint.

He expected her to lower her arm. That would just leave her neck exposed.

She lunged forward instead.

The lightsaber hit her shoulder, but she got within arms reach before he could hit her in the neck, and caught him in the sternum with her elbow.

He fell, hard, and Aqura brought up her pistol-

And flew backwards, hit by nothing and knocked across the room.

The Force. She'd never actually seen that in action.

She had to use her jetpack to get right-way up again, but she landed, skidding backwards and already firing her blaster.

It barely slowed Master Jaro down.

Change of strategy. Aqura launched her grapple line at the window. Transparisteel cracked, held, and the piton secured itself. Aqura kicked herself into the air and activated her jetpack, barely keeping off the ground as she sped past and around Master Jarro. She felt when the line caught him, changed direction, and headed towards the window.

She almost hit it, she was moving so fast.

Master Jarro did hit it. Hard.

Aqura's arm was in place before he could recover, and the air filled with fire. She must have let the grapple line go, because it didn't get in her way when she started walking towards him.

It wasn't the way she would have liked to kill a Jedi - too easy, honestly - but if it worked, it worked.

Something invisible knocked Aqura's arm aside and blew away the flames.

The Mandalorian Killer charged out of the fire.

Aqura slapped her blaster into its holster and popped both vibroblades, laughing. "Oya!" She caught the lightsaber on one blade stabbing with the other. There were a flurry of strikes that proved two blades wouldn't be enough to get past Master Jarro's defenses, but Aqura kept it going for a few more seconds anyway.

When the two finally stepped back to catch their breaths, it was hard to tell whether Master Jarro was impressed or frustrated.

"Your… laughter… is unusual," the Jedi said between breathes.

"Sorry." Aqura didn't even try stifling a grin. "This is just the most fun I've had… ever, I think."

Master Jarro nodded as if that was the most normal thing in the galaxy, which Aqura appreciated, then he stood up straight, took a single deep breath, and it was like they hadn't just traded blows so fast Aqura could feel it in her joints.

That just wasn't fair!

Then he attacked again, and she didn't care. She just wanted to keep doing this forever, to fight somebody who could anticipate her movements so well that she had to change up her fighting style every couple of seconds. One strike would need the strength of her armour just to drive it back, then the next three would flow in the Echani style, then she'd have to use her flamethrower or a missile just to keep the Jedi on his toes. If she died right now, it would be worth it!

Then her missiles clicked empty and Master Jarro's lightsaber cut deep enough through the armour weave at her throat that she felt it. and she realized she absolutely could die right now.

For the next pair of seconds, she worked on catching a glimpse of the noncombatants around them.

They'd backed up quite a ways. Of course they had. The entire area was scorched and gouged black.

Inventory time. Suit, gauntlet vibroblades and one on her thigh, flamethrower running low and not enough time to reload it from her spares. Cryospray? That was full, at least. Missiles were out.

Wait.

Aqura sparked on an idea and started moving towards the window.

Transparisteel was durable stuff. Normally, it didn't shatter. Otherwise, why would anyone build windows into starships?

Her gauntlet started humming, barely audible even inside the armour itself, but there wasn't time to think about that. With a roar, Aqura slammed the lightsaber to the side and took off into the air. With the half-second's breathing room, she drew her blaster and dropped a fuel pack to the ground. Halfway to Master Jarro, she shot at it.

The fact that she managed to hit it was a miracle she considered after the fact. Flames expanded to blind her and, hopefully, Master Jarro. That was the plan, at least.

She had two more fuel packs. If that wasn't enough, this was going to be very hard.

A shift of weight carried her backwards towards the window. She hit the ground, skidding slightly, and let the charged cryospray loose, all of it, on the window. With her other hand, she threw the last fuel back at the base of the window.

Once she'd done that, she grabbed the grapple line and wrapped it firmly around her arm. Just in case.

When the flames cleared, Master Jarro moved more slowly this time, probably sensing the danger. It didn't matter much. As soon as the freeze spray was spent, Aqura stepped away and shot it.

If she'd known how spectacularly successful the effect would be, she would have stepped back further. As it was, transparisteel shards exploded out of the window, blowing Aqura backwards and cutting through the weak spots of her armour. The breath was knocked out of her, then knocked out again when she hit the ground several meters away.

What did not happen was the air getting sucked out of the bridge spectacularly, and Master Jarro along with it. Aqura was left to look up groggily from where she'd been thrown onto her back.

As Master Jarro stumbled away from a window with a pretty impressive dent in it, it occurred to her that she probably should have come into this fight with a plan.

At least this had finally rattled him. He stumbled and his lightsaber drooped in his hand.

And then, he just… fell, and Aqura saw thousands of shards of transparisteel buried in his body.

"Master Jarro!"

That had not gone anything like what Aqura had been expecting.

"Great," Gault shouted, "now hurry up, we have to go!"

Padawan Thendys ran up to her master's body, kneeling down just as Aqura was getting to her feet.

It hurt, just a little, when the girl looked up at her with tear-filled eyes.

"He fought well," Aqura said. "He deserved the name Mandalorian Killer. You should go now. The Aurora is going to be destroyed."

The Padawan didn't speak, just kept glaring at her.

"Mandokarla, we have to go, now!"

Aqura started to back away. Then, when Gault yelled at her again, she ran. Before they left the bridge, she asked, "shouldn't she come with us?"

Gault snorted. "The escape pods are a lot closer than that hangars. She'll be fine. Besides, you just killed her master. You don't want a vengeful jedi on the ship, no matter how much you like picking up strays."

That was that, then. They left the kid behind, crying over her dead master.

As they passed the cell block, Aqura decided that some parts of bounty hunting weren't nearly as fun as she'd always thought.


	13. Mandalorian 1

"I can't believe it," Mako repeated. "An audience with Mandalore himself. This is the biggest leagues of all."

"Alright, alright," Gault grumbled. "Now get off the ship and go see him so I don't have to hear about it anymore."

Aqura didn't respond. She wasn't even sure when she'd gone quiet, exactly. Maybe when Huntmaster Assistant Lek told her about the audience with Mand'alor. Maybe when the Huntmaster had declared her Mand'alor's champion. Maybe when Uncle Sherkan had failed to respond to her call, again. Whatever it was, she hadn't spoken much for a while. Maybe hadn't spoken at all, for all she remembered.

"Aqura? Everything alright?"

She managed a nod. She wasn't even sure who'd just spoken.

"Hey, I'd offer to go in your place, but he did specifically ask for you. You'd better go, kid."

A hand under Aqura's arm helped her up and towards the ship exit.

"Keeping the helmet for the meet and greet, then? Alright, good luck, you two."

"Thanks, Gault. If we take too long, don't drink all the booze, got it?"

"You wound me, kid. Besides, I paid for half of it- alright, alright. Stars, I'll see you in a bit. Don't come back trailing blasterfire this time."

The door opened and Aqura stepped down the ramp. Aqura, with Mako.

There were three Mandalorians waiting for them. None of them were who Aqura wanted to see. None of them were Mand'alor, either.

One of them walked up to meet the pair of hunters. Mako probably had no idea why Aqura moved closer to her.

Head in the hunt, Mandokarla, Aqura told herself. She almost laughed at herself, using that nickname she'd made people call her for so long. She shook her head, clenched a fist but didn't quite pop a vibroblade, and followed the Mando who beckoned them forward.

The halls weren't long enough, and they were way too wide. Too soon, the Mando who'd led them said, "Mand'alor? Your champion presents herself," and stepped aside.

Aqura and Mako stepped into a room with little besides flags and a desk. And a man. The man.

He wore ornate golden armour, more form than function but still impressive enough that Aayha would salivate over it. The pipes coming from the back of his shoulders were probably secondary thrusters. He did them the courtesy of leaving his helmet off, resting on the table in front of him. His face was heavy-browed and serious, dark-skinned, and his head was bald.

A part of Aqura wondered what it would be like to fight him. Would the other Mando'ade kill her before she reached for her blaster? Could she take on the Mand'alor himself? If she did, if she became Mand'alor, could she…

"Leave," Mand'alor commanded. "I will speak with the champions alone."

"Er," Mako started nervously, and the guards echoed her.

"Go," Mand'alor repeated. "I am armed."

The door closed and Mand'alor nodded to the two women.

"Mako. I hear you're the brains of the operation. Well done winning the Great Hunt. Officially, you're not the Grand Champion, but that's just formality. Congratulations."

Mako nodded several times, nervous until Aqura touched her hand.

"Thank you, sir," she managed.

She didn't get the chance to say more. Mand'alor turned his head to look Aqura in the visor and said. "And Grand Champion Mandokarla." His expression twitched visibly. "Buy'ce off. I know who you are. I know exactly who you are."

Aqura didn't like the sound of that, but she reached up, undid the clasps on her helmet, and lifted it free. One hand busy if a fight started. She didn't like that.

Mand'alor crossed his arms and Aqura almost sighed in relief. At least he obviously didn't want to fight.

"You've caused a problem for me, Aqura. No dar'manda has ever won the Great Hunt." Aqura twitched and Mand'alor raised a hand to forestall her. "I'm not saying that's fair, especially in your case. Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la. I'll respect that, even if some of my people don't."

Mako looked between the two of them, confused. Of course. Her translator didn't do well with proverbs.

"He said my family shouldn't affect how I'm treated," Aqura explained tersely. She wasn't taking her eyes off Mand'alor, though. And if she was glaring, what of it? The man deserved to know where he stood.

Mand'alor nodded. "But they will. I can't claim you're not Grand Champion; that's the Huntmaster's territory. As is, though, I can't have people calling you my champion. If anyone finds out who you are, and eventually they will, it blows up in my face. I'd rather avoid that."

Damn him! Damn them all, where was Sherkan when she needed him? Where were Aayha and Sho'cye? Why was she meeting Mand'alor alone?

"Aqura," said a soft voice beside her.

She turned her head and looked into a round face with bright brown eyes that looked back at her with concern.

"What's going on?" Mako asked.

Not alone. Mako was on her side. Gault was back on the ship, but he'd be there for her in a heartbeat if she needed him.

Aqura gave her sister's hand a soft squeeze and took a deep breath. Then something in her mind clicked.

"The helmet wasn't about killing any royal guards at all," she muttered. "Osik, Sherkan. You made me a liar for nothing."

"Not for nothing," Mand'alor interrupted. Aqura looked up. Of course he'd overheard. He continued. "I doubt you'd have made it so far with half the Mandalorians in the Hunt gunning for you. It's probably why Blood singled you out - he figured it would earn him some credit with me."

"The person you're talking about," Aqura interrupted, "is dar'cuyir."

Mand'alor's stare hardened. "You overstep your bounds, Champion, but I will uphold your oath. All you need to know, then, is that there are reasons I know who you are, and why I picked you to retrieve the auction codes. The same reason Hedarr Soongh reached out to you, I imagine. You made yourself worthy of learning more about, one way or another, and you acquitted yourself well."

"And what does that mean for my clan?"

Mand'alor stepped around his desk and met Aqura's glare steadily. He was armed, like he'd said, with a blaster on his right hip and a short vibroblade along is other thigh. He was big, too. But most of all, he was powerful in a way nobody Aqura had ever known. This was a man who had the power to change somebody's destiny if he chose, simply by saying it was so.

She'd kill for that power, she realized. Not by choice, and not if she could help it, but for her family, she'd do it.

"Your clan doesn't exist any more, Champion," Mand'alor growled. "They had their chance, a chance you still have. Renounce them and join the Mandalorian clans. It won't take much to prove-"

"Nu draar," Aqura spat. Renounce her family? She'd take on the whole clan on the Spirit of Vengeance before that. "My family's name, back amongst the clans. You wanted an audience, you want something from me, that's the price."

"Aqura!"

Mako was afraid and Mand'alor was as angry as Aqura was.

"Your clan's name is lost, girl!" He loomed over her, almost close enough to gut if it weren't for all that armour. "Is there anyone still alive who even remembers it, after all these years? Ordo, Cadera, Itera, Kelborn, all swore allegiance to me and survived. Their clans were scattered, but their names survived because they accepted their defeat. And now you want it back?! None of you left alive were ever part of the Schism. All you're asking for is a chance to get yourself killed like the rest of them."

No. "That's a lie! Ba'vodu Sherkan is-"

"Dead. Weeks ago. You're fighting for children-"

Aqura roared and dove forward, both vibroblades out, and almost made it, if not for Mako. The girl dove in front of her and Aqura almost crushed Mako under a beskar charge.

"Let me go!"

Mako held tighter and tried her best to push Aqura back. It wouldn't have worked even if Aqura were unarmoured, and the only thing keeping Aqura back was the risk of hitting the girl with a blade.

"Aqura, stop!"

Aqura just roared.

Then a hand grasped her wrist so firmly she felt it through her armour and a sharp pain blossomed in her cheek. Under attack, Aqura roared louder and charged.

"Ah!"

She stopped. Mako was hurt. Osik, Mako was underneath her. Aqura practically fell off the girl in her hurry to keep from doing any more harm, but Mako was holding her forearm gingerly, staring at Aqura in… oh, Manda, please let that be concern and not fear.

"Aqura…"

Mako's face went stony and she tried to stand straight, but she wouldn't take her hand off her arm. This time, it was Mand'alor who stepped in front of her protectively, and Aqura couldn't bring herself to deny his right to it. He looked at her with as much contempt as anger now.

"Apparently your reputation is overblown, 'Mandok'-"

"Sir," Mako interrupted softly. Mand'alor stopped. "I'm sorry, I don't mean any disrespect. Please, though, let me talk to her?"

Mand'alor went silent for several seconds. Eventually, he spoke in a low rumble. "Mand'alors greater than me would have killed your friend for less, Mako."

"But you do need her," Mako insisted. "Probably because she's the Grand Champion. She's not stupid, she's just got a temper."

Mand'alor refrained from snorting in derision, but he sure managed a look that sent the same message. Even so, he let Mako step forward.

Aqura reached out. "Mako…"

Mako held out her injured arm to show Aqura. "I'm fine, Aqura. It'll probably just bruise. A lot."

She took hold of Aqura's hands and raised them up before her, wincing at even that little pressure on her arm. It wasn't until the vibroblades were in front of her face that Aqura realized they were still out and retracted them.

Mako cracked a smile. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry."

Mako met Aqura's eyes and held them. "What the hells was that about, Aqura?" she whispered. "You just attacked Mandalore on his own ship. You're lucky he must really need us, because we should be dead."

"Our family are exiles, Mako," Aqura murmured back. Her knees felt weak at the admission. "It's why I never told you my clan name. We don't have one. Not as long as I've been a part of them."

Mako nodded, then shook her head. "And what does that mean?"

"It means ba'vodu Sherkan lied to me about why they pushed me into the Great Hunt, and now he's dead. Probably killed by fellow Mandalorians, just like half of the clan."

With the words went Aqura's energy. With a sigh and a clatter of metal on metal, she slumped to her knees, spent.

Mako was still holding her hands, now kneeling in front of her. "Why were you in the hunt, then?"

"I thought it was so I could prove myself," Aqura croaked, "I guess it was so they could protect me from the rest of the Mando'ade."

She looked over Mako's shoulder and barely mustered the energy to speak loud enough for Mand'alor to hear.

"What do I have to do?"

Mand'alor stared at her, face unreadable. His body language was clearer. His hands were close to his weapons now.

"What do I have to do to get my clan's name back?" Aqura repeated.

"You can't," Mand'alor repeated. How did he manage to sound so controlled? "I am not your enemy, Aqura; I am willing to help you if you help me, but there are limits to what the clans will accept. No Mandalorian will repeat your clan's name. Even your own clan abandoned it. It is gone."

Mako turned, holding tight to Aqura's hands with one of hers, but turning her body so she could face Mand'alor full on. "There are only three of them left. The other two are so far off the grid even I can't find them. Isn't that harmless enough?"

Aqura tried to keep the hope from her face when Mand'alor paused to consider. She shot Mako a grateful look, and the girl squeezed Aqura's hands once.

They were in this together. At least Aqura wasn't alone, even if Mako didn't want to be a Mandalorian and didn't care about the name itself. Mako wasn't going to leave, at least not now. Aqura still had some family to turn to.

Even with that weight lifted, Aqura still didn't trust herself to get to her feet. Not until…

"No," Mand'alor said. The pronouncement fell like a hammer, but he raised a hand to stop either hunter speaking. "Aqura, your clan's name is gone. You will have to accept that. However… it doesn't mean your clan has to be. I can make certain concessions, as Mand'alor, and give you the chance to earn a new clan name. It would not be easy."

"I'll do anything for my aliit," Aqura swore.

Again, Mand'alor simply waited. He did that so much, it made Aqura angrier than she already was. This time, though, she kept herself in check. For Mako, and for the chance at her clan's honour.

Their honour, if not their name. Maybe it would be enough. Not for Sherkan or Yoru or Denn, but they were gone. She kept their memories alive but she could never insist that anybody else did so. That wouldn't be real. For Aayha and Sho'cye, and just for knowing that they'd never really given in to the clans…

It wasn't what Aqura wanted at all, but what she really wanted was her family back. Since that was impossible, she could settle for making a new one. It was what she'd been doing all along, with Mako and Gault.

"I'm beginning to see that," Mand'alor said softly. He gestured with one hand. "Stand up. I think I know how to give you your chance, if you'll seize it."

* * *

"I don't trust this. It's too easy."

"Easy? We're not even getting paid for this. And why isn't Mandokarla wrapped up like a spice crate?"

"It's Aqura today, Gault," Aqura said, loudly enough for them to hear her as they lagged behind. Or maybe she just moved quickly. It was hard to tell in the half-shell of durasteel she was wearing. Light armour with no hydraulics and no helmet. At least it had a micro-missile and a couple seconds' worth of jet fuel.

Technically, all Mand'alor had said was that she needed to show her face and tell people her name. The full new set of gear, as cheap as it was, was her little rebellion. She'd kill whatever he sent her after in a set of tin cans on string if she had to.

And in the rain, no less. Because of course it was raining, it was Dromund Kaas. Aqura ground forward steadily through the underbrush and over tree roots while Mako and Gault struggled to keep up. She did her best to clear a path for them, even if it meant they might be followed by a Sleen. Gault knew to keep an eye out and they'd both be better off without the exhaustion that came from forging a path through jungle growth.

She kept up the same pace until they came out into a clearing filled with armoured men and women. A smattering of species from human to kel dor were spread out between campfires and tents, but the most important detail was the armoured and well-armed ones near the cave at the far end of the clearing. Judging from the size of the cave and the barricades in front of it, Mand'alor's monster was as big as a rancor and at least as mean.

For a second, Aqura was distracted, wondering when the rancor egg on her ship would hatch, but then one of the nearby Mandalorians noticed the three of them and walked over. From his expression, it wasn't hard to guess what he was about to say.

Sure enough, when he got close enough, he held out a hand to stop her and said, "this is a camp for warriors, not hikers. You're not welcome here."

Aqura nodded absently, looking over the man's shoulder at a younger Mandalorian, a human with sandy-blond hair and blooding scars across his cheeks. He was staring at her intently, then his eyes shifted to Mako, his brow furrowed, then his eyes went wide and he went back to staring at Aqura, this time in shock.

Gault took advantage of her distraction to say something about relaxing jaunts through Mandalorian vacation spots, getting a snarl from the man.

Osik, Gault, Aqura thought. He knew she would protect him if anything happened, and he'd started taking that as invitation to be even more sassy than usual.

"Bite your tongue or lose it," the man snapped. "I'm done being nice."

The other one, though, the smart one, came up beside him, almost between Aqura and the Mandalorian. "She's more warrior than you, Jogo," he said. His eyes scanned the other two, the unspoken words making Aqura smile for the first time in days. He knew who she was and, more importantly, he knew to respect the people traveling with her.

"You're one to judge, eh, arue'tal?"

Mako's hand came to rest on Aqura's shoulder, but she needn't have bothered. This wasn't their fight. This was between the smart Mandalorian and the hothead. As long as it didn't evolve beyond words, it was obvious who was going to win that. Though it might be nice to see how the scarred man handled himself in a fight. He was about Mako's age, and clever.

Aqura reminded herself what she was here for.

It was matter-of-fact, the way the blond Mando explained, "Huntmaster declared her Grand Champion."

"Jahaatyc," the stupid one, Jogo, growled. He nodded to her. "That look like golden beskar'gam to you?"

Mako almost spoke up, but Aqura reached up a hand to touch the one Mako still had on her arm and gave it a light squeeze. She wanted to see what the Mando said.

He didn't disappoint. After realizing she wouldn't speak up for herself, he nodded towards Mako. "Same aliit," he said. Then he looked lower, to Aqura's hip. "Same blaster, too."

"My name's Aqura," she put in, just like Mand'alor had ordered. "This is Mako, and that's Gault Rennow."

"You went by Mandokarla in the Hunt," Jogo scoffed. "Was that some kind of joke, outsider?"

"Hey," Mako stepped forward, trying and failing to pull Aqura back as she did. "She's as Mandalorian as you are, buddy."

The clever Mandalorian knew better, though. Aqura could tell by the way he looked at her that he had questions. A part of her wished he'd just say what he was thinking and save her the humiliation.

It was Jogo who said it, though.

"Why were you one of the aruetiise qualifiers, then, 'Mandokarla'?"

"Because-"

"Aqura," Mako interrupted, "you don't have to do this. Go take on the monster. I'll… tell them." She choked on the words. She didn't want to say anything, either, and that meant a lot.

"Uh," Gault interjected, "I can go if you want. This seems pretty personal. None of my business, right?" He laughed nervously. "Seriously, kid, what's going on? You've been acting funny since the Hunt ended. What's up?"

"I have no clan name," Aqura snapped, like setting a dislocated shoulder. Quick, agonizing, and with a lingering ache. "I was never eligible for the Mandalorian qualifiers."

That was what Mako had explained to her, at least. It was something she should have known, but she'd never thought to question. She'd taken for granted that the reason her clan hadn't sponsored her was because she'd been expected to make it on her own.

Aqura's brain cell was lonely.

"But I will be," she continued, shaking away the thought. To the small group of Mandalorians who'd filtered close enough to hear, she declared, "I'm here for my blooding, by Mand'alor's command."

Then she trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

"You heard her," Gault yelled, "make way for the Grand Champion of the Great Hunt! We've got a monster to kill!"

He walked up beside her and started pushing her forward subtly, yelling all the while. Most of the Mandalorians present just got out of the way and all of them looked their way. Some of them looked like they whispered amongst themselves, but Gault drowned it out with his yelling.

They made it to the cave without anybody stopping them. Only a few followed them. The hothead, the clever one, a zabrak woman, and a cathar woman, looking on with anything ranging from contempt to awe. The smart Mando just watched, though. Curious, intense, and waiting.

The three of them passed the last guard in front of the cave and stopped. Aqura raised a hand.

"I'll go from here," she said, and even though she wasn't wearing her helmet, it felt like her voice echoed dully.

"Wait. Without us?" Mako moved to intercept Aqura. She put her back to the cave, but Aqura and Gault were both watching it.

Aqura nodded. "It's my clan, it's my mission."

Mako threw out her arms wide, blocking the way and glaring at Aqura. "Your mission and not mine? We both went to talk to Mandalore."

"You're not Mandalorian, Mako. Mand'alor doesn't command you."

"I'm your sister," Mako snapped. "You don't get to go without me."

"I don't want to!" Aqura was yelling now, in spite of Gault trying to shush her. "But this is a blooding ritual. I can't bring aruetii with me!"

"And you're not going without me," Mako said fiercely, "so I guess there's only one choice left, huh?"

It didn't connect. Aqura had no idea what Mako meant for long seconds. If she wasn't going with Mako and wasn't going without her, then did her partner expect Aqura to turn back at this point?

"I'm going with you," Mako insisted. "I'm your sister."

Oh. Oh, Manda.

"Mako. You're not a Mandalorian."

Mako shrugged. "Not yet, I guess." She dropped her arms. She wasn't smiling, but when she tilted her head back towards the cave, it was expectant.

The two of them turned and went into the cave. And stopped at the sound of crunching feet behind them.

"What?" Gault asked with an indignant shrug. "Did you forget I was here or were you planning on leaving behind the only one with common sense?"

Aqura opened her mouth to respond, but Gault raised a hand.

"Look," he said, "I don't get what's going on here. If I did, I'd sit back and happily spin tales for the rubes back there. As is, we're stuck with each other, because those guys don't look friendly and this whole planet gives me the creeps. Got it?"

Aqura and Mako exchanged doubtful looks.

Gault unslung his rifle. "If you want to get yourselves killed, be my guests, but I don't mind anyone calling me a Mandalorian and I've been meaning to start building up some connections again. Mandalore seems like a good place to start."

Aqura snorted. "You would easily make the worst Mandalorian I've ever seen."

"After the local greeter, you mean," Gault said, thumbing back over his shoulder.

Aqura sighed. "You can't come with us, Gault. It's not the same."

The devaronian shrugged and took another step forward. "Fine. Then you can't call me uncle anymore."

"I'm serious, Gault!"

"So am I! You're the one who keeps saying this is a family thing." Gault took another step closer to Aqura and, for the first time since she'd tried to kill him, he genuinely looked serious. "Look, kid. Maybe you're a Mandalorian, maybe you're about to be. You've lost me there, and you're going to explain yourself whether you like it or not. Either way, though? You two are alright. Let me come with you and I'll make sure you get out of this place alive."

Osik, why was it so hard to read this man's face? She couldn't tell whether he cared or was trying to throw her off or had some bizarre ulterior motive.

"Alright," Mako said.

Aqura jerked her head to look at Mako. "What?"

"Alright," Mako repeated. "This is our blooding ritual now, right? If Uncle Gault's not going to be a real Mandalorian, he doesn't have to actually help. He can say he did and it'll all work out."

Aqura's face twisted at the logic.

"I know, I know," Gault said, patting her shoulder and walking past. "It's such a loss for the Mandalorians. Think of it this way, though: Tyresius Lokai wasted his whole life as an unrepentant scoundrel. Maybe Gault Rennow can try something a little different."

Aqura let out an indignant yelp and jogged after both Gault and Mako. "Hey," she called, "we're not talking about a little different. You're dar'hayc, Gault, and you're not ruining my name with the Mandalorians."

"Get on the bad side of a bunch of people with big guns and long memories?" Gault laughed.

"Never stopped you before," Mako finished, laughing with him.

When the first monster came around the cave's corner, all glowing eyes and teeth like spikes, the trio was ready, and Aqura was grinning wider than the beast's jaws. It went down slowly under a hail of blasterfire, but it went down all the same.

Aqura took her position at the front. Even without her real armour, it was where she belonged, the first one to see what came at them and the first thing it would attack.

It occurred to her idly that, by switching armour to spite Mand'alor, she'd taken away Aayha's chance to contribute to Aqura's blooding, and Mako's.

She chuckled. And Gault's. Sort of.

Well, it probably mattered more to her than it would to Aayha. She wasn't much for tradition, anyway. Sho'cye would be disappointed he wasn't here, but he'd been there for her clan blooding.

More of the little monsters. They were like rancors, but sleeker and vaguely creepy, unsettling, even. If anything, they should be scary.

"You two alright?" Aqura asked when they'd put the two creatures down.

Mako shivered, but nodded.

"Don't play tough, kid," Gault scolded her. He gestured them over to the wall and looked around before putting his hand on it. "Feel that?" he asked.

Aqura and Mako moved over to the wall, too, and both put their hands on it. Aqura was about to shake her head when the wall rumbled faintly under her fingertips. At first, she thought it was intermittent. Then she realized it was steady.

"Breathing," she whispered.

"Tell me that doesn't give you second thoughts," Gault muttered, but he knew he was just talking to himself.

Aqura just smiled. She'd have offered to let him turn back, but neither he or Mako would. "Come on," she said. "If that's the size of the mother, I bet some of the kids further in are bigger than I am. We'll get you blooded yet, Mako."

Mako rolled her eyes. "Joy. You're lucky I l- like you, Mandokarla."

Aqura smiled and led them on. It turned out she wasn't wrong about the monsters. Not by a long shot. On the way in, as things got dark enough they should have needed torches and headlamps, mushrooms along the walls started to glow. They lit up the first monster bigger than Aqura with a sinister blue-black. The speed it came at them and how hard it was to see almost got them killed, but it made the mistake of stepping on one of the mushrooms. The fungus exploded in a cloud of noxious purple and the beast came out roaring and swiping blindly. It took seconds and some clever distractions on Mako's part to bring the thing down.

They were all more cautious after that, and the monsters only got bigger.

"This is nuts," Mako said as they skirted the corpse of a beast easily twice any of their heights. "Shouldn't the younger ones be closer to their mother? Why are they getting bigger?"

Aqura grunted and shoved the beast's leg so they could get past. "Probably the same reason this all feels more creepy than scary. It's like the Dark Temple all over again."

She waited for the others to climb around the beast, between its body and the wall, before she kept walking.

It was a lot like the Dark Temple all over again, and she was just as determined that Mako - and, this time, Gault - got out of here unscathed. She, herself, was starting to ache after all the close calls with beasts big enough to crush her as they died.

Beyond the last beast was a cavern so high they couldn't see the top in the glow of the fungus. Images filled Aqura's mind of winged terrors swooping down and picking off Mako and Gault, and she pulled back, closer to them.

"I've got a-"

Gault's comment cut off when the side of the cavern to their right lit up, not blue, but red, diluted by mist.

"-bad feeling," he finished in a whisper.

In the red and blue light, armoured Mandalorian corpses and skeletons seemed almost highlighted across the floor. Then the mist moved.

What came out of the mist changed Aqura's definition of monster. It was unnaturally big, and even at this distance she had to crane her head to see its eyes. Its many eyes, all clustered where eyes probably should be, but tiny and beady and glowing lava-red. That same red leaked through its armoured hide.

No, not leaked. Escaped, in tears and patches from a thick body with short legs, too-long arms. Nothing that tall should have arms that reached the ground, but this thing did, and tusks to match, tusks thicker around than Aqura's chest.

Whatever the thing was, the sense of teeth and claws and tusks and strength all came after the feeling that something was wrong with the world now that she'd seen it.

She stepped back, just for a second, and touched Gault and Mako's hands. "Gault," she said urgently, "stay back. Don't interfere unless you have to. Mako, stay behind me. We're going to fix- we're going to kill this thing."

Fix this. That was how wrong the monster felt, like it was something wrong with the galaxy that had to be made right in any way possible.

The monster didn't roar before it charged. It didn't need to. Its breath already echoed in Aqura's chest and the bones on the floor rattled when it stepped.

"Oya!" Aqura yelled loud enough to forget the tight feeling in her chest and charged right at the thing.

She had her target. Targets. Her blaster pistol came up as she ran and she pulled the trigger as fast as she could. It wasn't that she expected to hit anything, on the run and aiming up so high, but when blaster bolts scattered near the monster's eyes, it turned on her and swiped low.

As the hand came close, the Mandalorian realized it was big enough to wrap around her entire body and hide her in its fist. It clipped her ankle as she dove past, slamming her sideways and into a roll that almost brought her past its legs.

Almost. She was right under it.

So she pulled a vibroblade from her hip and stabbed it into the monster's leg, then twisted.

The beast made no sound, but turned so fast it wrenched the blade from Aqura's grasp. She scrambled away when it almost stepped on her, then it slammed a hand against the ground and opened its mouth to come at her.

Blasterfire lit up the side of its face and it turned away to shelter its eyes. Aqura took the chance and stepped to her feet, already running.

She didn't run far. She needed to keep the thing's attention. With it turning away from her, though, it took its only apparent weak spot with it.

Well, the only weak spot on its front, Aqura thought, eyeing the blade dripping glowing-red in the beast's ankle.

She wasn't a good enough shot for this. She needed a grenade or another blade or something. If she could just see the stalactites on the cave roof, that might be enough, but she didn't really have options, and Mako was on the other side of that monster.

Mako, who'd come with Aqura to fight something that had held off a full Mandalorian hunting party for weeks.

She wasn't getting hurt today.

Aqura set her stance, aimed her blaster pistol with both hands, and shot the vibroblade lodged in the creature's ankle.

"Mako," she yelled, "I'm coming overhead."

The monster didn't turn at her blasterfire or yelling, even though the vibroblade definitely cut deeper as it was pushed by the few shots that hit it. Luckily, it did hesitate. That gave Aqura enough time to run forward. This time, though, she leapt when she got close. Up, with the help of a burst from a jetpack that wasn't hers, and onto the monster's back.

The instant her foot hit, she jumped again, climbing up over the monster's head in two strides.

There was Mako, looking up at her as she came down. Aqura spun, fired her blaster as she passed the eyes, and fell past the monster's face until she saw-

Her hand lashed out and grabbed, and suddenly Aqura was swinging on one of the smaller ones underneath its mouth.

"What are you doing!?"

Good question, but Aqura didn't stop to think about it as her momentum carried her towards the beast's shoulder, landing on the arm while it stretched to where she'd been about to fall.

Perfect.

Now what?

She hadn't thought much beyond distracting it from Mako. Did it have ears? Those were usually sensitive.

Then its arm dropped and she lost her footing and fell. She barely managed to kick off to get some distance from it.

The hunter had just enough time to wonder if she saw a crack in the bleeding glow she'd just kicked, then she hit the ground. The armour didn't move the way her other armour did, and she had cause for more regrets as she stumbled to her feet.

"What was that?" Aqura looked at Mako, who was fiddling with her blaster pistol and glaring back. Without waiting for her to say anything, the girl continued, "I was on the other side of it for a reason!"

"Just shoot it and run when you get the chance," Aqura replied. There had to be a way around this thing. She had maybe one jump left in her jetpack, so unless she pulled off another string of acrobatics, she was stuck here with Mako, trying to figure out how to actually hurt the thing.

Well, at least its face was on this side. Maybe that would help.

Judging by the tusks and teeth, probably not.

Blaster bolt after blaster bolt splashed across the creature's face and did nothing except make it put one hand up in front of its eyes. Aqura scanned around, trying to figure out a way around the thing even if she had to push Mako through it.

"Look out!"

Mako made the smart choice, she didn't try to tackle Aqura or pull her out of the way. It still meant that Aqura was half a second too late to see the arm coming her way, swinging blindly from high above. It slammed into her like a runaway frigate and sent her into the air and slamming into the cave wall.

She fell to the floor behind a group of mushrooms half her size. Her hand came up to keep shooting, but there was no blaster in her hand. Distantly, a part of her mind noted that her arm should be coming up higher than that, and it would be if it weren't for the agony of lifting it higher.

Her other hand came up to inject her shoulder with kolto almost on instinct. It didn't do much to dull the pain, but it should help keep whatever had gone wrong from getting worse.

Aqura pushed forward past the glowing fungus, moving too fast and throwing spores into the air that blinded her. Tears streaming from her eyes, she burst through the other side to see Mako cowering in front of the monster.

The monster put both hands against the wall behind Mako and reached its head down to bite the girl. Aqura started to raise her right arm. She couldn't aim the micro-missile with her shoulder the way it was, and Mako was too close for the shot to be safe, but it was better than certain death.

A sound reminiscent of a turbolaser went off and a flash of light matched it, both coming from where Mako had disappeared under the monster's form. The monster reared back, then a bolt of lightning hit the vibroblade embedded in its ankle, and the beast actually recoiled before lashing out blindly. Mako barely made it out, scrambling under flailing claws and stomping feet, dodging rocks falling from the cave roof.

Aqura was still blinking away fungus spores when Mako reached her, panting.

"Me'ganar?" the girl gasped.

She asked that way out of pragmatism, not tradition. It took too long to ask, 'what do we have to work with?' It was different today, though. Today every Mandalorian part of Mako mattered. Bloodings were special.

Aqura gestured to her forearm, shoulder, and then the mushrooms behind her. "Missile, broken, spores. You?"

Mako held up a blaster pistol that looked partly melted and dropped it, shrugging. "Good otherwise," she said, throwing a fervent look at the creature that was now turning to find the two of them.

That meant Mako was the closest thing they had to an arsenal, and all she had was a few kolto packs with applicator and med scanner, and an arc projector.

The armoured hunter scrambled to unclasp the bracer holding her micro-missile, which turned out to be pretty difficult to do without putting pressure on her shoulder. With her arm the way it was, she wouldn't be firing the thing. Better for Mako to have it.

The monster faced them now, and they could see the extent of what Mako's blaster shot had done.

"Osik," Aqura breathed, seeing the glow across the monster's front. Cracks, like shattered crystal, covered the creature's shoulder. "What did you do?"

Mako strapped on Aqura's bracer. That left Aqura completely unarmed and Mako with one good shot and a taser that was probably still recharging. "Oya Manda, it worked." She pointed, trying to explain as the creature leaned forward to charge them. "The glow's a weak spot."

Yes. Yes, Aqura hadn't been imagining before! The glowing parts were thin parts of the beast's armour. Like how veins showed through skin, its blood was visible at joints and where there were fewer layers of hide.

Now if only they had any way to get through even that.

"I'll distr-"

"Catch!"

Aqura turned just enough to see two dark shapes come out of the dark at her. By instinct, her hands came out to catch them, and she almost dropped as she heard and felt something grind in her right shoulder. Almost by accident, she caught one of the pieces while the other hit her armour and clattered to the cave floor.

Rifle in her hand, pistol on the floor, she tossed the two-handed weapon to Mako, scooped up the smaller one, and holstered it on the run as the rumbling started.

There was no putting distance between themselves and anything that size once it got up to speed. Anything that size could get up to speeds they'd never match. Mako needed time to overcharge another blaster and that meant Aqura had one job - bait.

"Dav'dajun!"

"What plan- Osik, Aqura!"

Whatever she said next didn't much matter, because Aqura whirled and charged the monster. This time, it was coming at her on all fours. Just like the hunter had expected. Nothing charged on legs that short.

Just like fighting a gundark, except ten times bigger. Or a hundred. Somewhere in there.

Aqura dove, slid, and then jumped to the side as its arms passed her. She was tempted to try grabbing her blade back as it passed, but that wasn't the goal. The oya'bajir was over, now was the time to kill the monster, no matter what it took. For Aqura, that meant letting her sister do the rest of the hard work.

She tackled the creature's leg with her good shoulder. It kicked her aside hard, but it slowed and looked at her. More reaction than the blaster would have gotten, at least. Speaking of which, she drew the little weapon and got up from where she'd landed on her back.

Not being able to use one arm was leading to a lot of bruises very quickly.

For long seconds, she dodged the beast's grasping, running at a speed she wouldn't have tried if she thought she'd need to keep it up. She fired her blaster mostly for show, barely making sure she hit the creature, let alone anything important.

Finally, she heard Mako's yell. "Ready!"

The monster had other ideas. Frustrated or ready for a new plan, it raised both hands high and slammed them into the ground. The cavern shook and Aqura actually stumbled and fell - straight into the monster's hands.

"Aqura!"

"Kid!"

"AAGH!" Aqura yelled as the hand squeezed. Something in her elbow popped. One of her elbows. It was hard to tell, the pain was everywhere. It was hard to see straight while rows of teeth started to fill her vision.

There was a flash of light. The arc projector, but it didn't hit the monster at all. There was the _whumpf_ of a muffled explosion, then spores filled the air, blinding Aqura completely and making the monster reel around fast enough that Aqura had to bury her face into its hand to keep from hurting her neck. She grit her teeth and muffled her scream as something else broke and the bone in her shoulder tore through skin.

A blast of heat blew her hair back.

"Stars," Gault yelled, "that's it!"

No.

"No!" Aqura yelled. The rifle. Mako had just used the rifle. The monster was flailing blindly. There was one more chance. "The missile! Use it!"

"I could hit-"

"Hurry!"

There was the woosh of a micromissile, an explosion, then Aqura was in the air. Not falling. She went up first, she could tell by the gravity even if she couldn't see.

Against every instinct, she forced her eyes open. She had to see. Tears filled her vision, but the blue meant floor and that was all she needed to see. Everything ached, but in less than a second her burning eyes were worse than any of that. It felt like forever before she started falling, and she actually screamed just to try to keep her mind off of how bleeding, frakking much her eyes burned.

She almost missed her chance. She couldn't think. Osik, she could barely see the blue by the time-

NOW!

The last burst of her jetpack slowed her fall. She still hit the ground in a heap, but it was a heap in one piece.

She closed her eyes. She could almost cry in relief at that. Then the burning in her shoulder demanded her attention and her ribs and elbow cried out they were next.

"Osik," she managed to say, "tell me we got it."

"You got it," Gault said. His voice was right beside her, already helping her up. "Mako, get over here. Your idiot sister needs… stars, girl, do we even have enough kolto for this? Let me see your eyes."

"I've got the med scanner, just let me- osik, Aqura, what the hells?"

One after another, they pumped her full of kolto. It took minutes before Aqura could see again, and even then everything was blurry.

"You are never going outside without your real armour again," Gault chided her, part of a full lecture he'd been going through as she recovered. "This is durasteel. How do you do this much damage to durasteel?"

Aqura laughed and, now that she could sort of see the skinny red scoundrel, latched her good arm around him in a half-hug. The best she could do, with Mako determinedly affixing her other arm with a sling.

"Ni kartaylir, ba'vodu," she murmured, almost slumping against him.

"I don't know what that means," he grumbled. "Get up, you're heavy."

Aqura laughed, pulled back, and hugged Mako, too. Mako actually returned the hug, though it was with a gingerness that was completely overreacting. The huntress was feeling way better. She could even make out Mako's concerned look already, even if it was mostly by guesswork and experience.

Aqura couldn't stop smiling. Everything hurt, sure, but that would fade. Groping slightly, she caught Mako's hand, held it close.

"You're… really not leaving," she said softly.

"What? No, of course not. Who said anything about leaving?"

"And you," Aqura continued, turning to Gault. "You're not leaving, either… right?"

It turned out this was a lot easier to say when she couldn't really see their faces. It was terrifying, but some childish instinct told her she was safer if she couldn't see the dangerous thing, couldn't see how they looked at her.

Gault hummed in confusion. "Hnn? I didn't know it was an option. Do I get a better cut if I say I'll stay?"

Aqura winced. "I'm… I'm serious, Gault."

It turned out it wasn't enough that she couldn't see their faces. She let go and turned away, stepping towards the massive body of the creature they'd killed together. She talked as she walked towards it.

"They're dead or gone," she said, forcing out a word or two with each slow step. "You don't have to stay, but… I need you. Both."

"You're talking about your clan," Mako realized. She followed, coming up beside Aqura while Gault trailed behind.

"What makes you think we're leaving?" Gault asked.

Because everybody does, Aqura almost said, but she couldn't bring the words out. She couldn't lie, either. So she just kept walking.

It was Mako who spoke for her.

"Your list. The one you recite every night."

Aqura nodded. "The Great Hunt is over," she added. "You don't need me anymore."

She didn't even need to kneel down to grab her vibroblade. She just pulled it out, swung it once to clear off most of the blood, and sheathed it.

"But," she continued before either of them could say anything, "you're still here." She smiled, and maybe it was a little weak, but it was genuine. "Thank you. That's what I meant. Thank you for staying with me, thank you for helping me, thank you for… for being…"

The Mandalorian choked, too scared to finish what she'd hoped to say.

Mako pulled her close and hugged her gently. It was quick, just a moment's contact, but it was the first hug she'd ever started between them. Even though it was over almost as quickly as it began, Aqura let her sister pull away without any protest.

Aqura gave a contented sigh, then said, "we should get back to Mand'alor. Whatever the next stage of his test is, I'm ready."

"Not with that arm, you're not," Mako pointed out. Then she cocked her head. "Do we need a trophy or something?"

Aqura nodded and started walking around the creature's body. "I know just what to take, too."

She set to work, then led the pair out of the cave. They came across a single infant monster on the way out, barely as tall as Aqura, but it was a simple trip otherwise. The trophy wasn't even damaged.

Before they left the cave, Aqura had Mako remove her cast, with the promise that she wouldn't move the arm no matter what. Then they stepped back into the lightning-lit outdoors of Dromund Kaas.

"Follow my lead," Aqura murmured to Mako.

The Mandalorians were quiet as the trio walked out to the center of the camp. Most of them recognized Aqura's injuries, that much was obvious. She could see them sizing her up. That Jogo di'kut sneered. The smart one, still standing beside him, glanced between her and Mako, but who knew what he was thinking? Jogo probably kept him around to think for him.

In the midst of the entire Mandalorian camp, Aqura held high one of the monster's eyes. It glowed an unnatural red and dripped onto her shoulder, but she waved it high and yelled, "the hunt is over! With this proof of the kill, I, Aqura, Mandokarla, Grand Champion of the Great Hunt, claim my place as a Mandalorian before my people!"

She looked to Mako and proffered the trophy to her. Mako leaned away and only raised a hand into the air. "The hunt is over," she yelled. "With this proof of the kill, I, Mako Mandokarla, claim my place as a Mandalorian before my people!"

Aqura froze and hissed, "Mako! It's not a last name!"

"Why not? It's kandosii."

Aqura sighed and tried to meet the gazes of the surrounding Mandalorians steadily. This was the Cosmic Torrent all over again. A clan couldn't be named Mandokarla. That would be like having a last name of Blacksmith or Starkiller.

The Mandalorians were muttering amongst themselves. Aqura looked to Gault, hoping he'd have a plan to save them some embarrassment, but he just held up a hand and gave her half a smile.

Finally, somebody raised a gauntleted fist into the air. "Grand Champion Mandokarla!" she yelled. Another did the same. "Mako Mandokarla!"

The names roared across the crowd, with sporadic shouts of, "Mando'cuy," 'Mandalorians exist', the traditional cry when welcoming new Mandalorians to the fold.

Aqura's arm, still holding the monster's eye, was getting tired by the time the yelling started to die down. Luckily, Gault stepped forward with his hands raised for attention.

"Thank you," he called, "thank you. Now, if the crowd of bloodthirsty people in armour doesn't mind, we have to get back to Mandalore and tell him his Grand Champion is a Mandalorian!"

There were cries of, "kandosii!" and, "oya!" throughout the crowd while Gault pulled the pair of women away and out into the jungle.

Mako gave the eye one last look. "You're not bringing that with us, are you?"

"Mand'alor still has to see it," Aqura said. "Besides, it's probably done dripping," she added with a meaningful tilt of her head towards her glowing arm.

Mako made a face and Gault muttered something about armoured weirdos, but Aqura just smiled.

She was tired and more than a bit battered and bruised, but she had her family with her. As soon as they completed whatever else Mand'alor set them up against, Sho'cye and Aayha would have a clan to come home to.

She'd have to start thinking of a good name.


	14. Mandalorian 2

"You took your time."

This time, Mand'alor greeted them in the hangar, and he looked just as impatient as he sounded.

Aqura was wearing her real armour again. It felt good. With her collarbone back in one piece and her ribs patched up, she felt like she could take on the whole ship if she needed to, as long as Mako and Gault were with her.

She watched Mako come down the ramp come down the ramp before turning back to Mand'alor. Gault was still hiding on the ship, even after his help with the blooding hunt and declaration.

Had he managed to get on Mand'alor's bad side at some point? He'd said he was big in breaking the Hydian Blockade, but Aqura had heard of Hylo Visz and never heard of him, so it didn't seem likely.

With a shrug, Aqura finally answered the man. "I took a couple of scrapes, thought I'd make myself presentable before coming back."

"And keep me waiting in the process," Mand'alor said, scowling and turning to walk down the hallway without even watching that they were following. "We've got a lot to discuss, and it's time for you two to meet the other Grand Champions."

"Jewl'a Nightbringer?!" Mako practically yelled the name, loud enough that Aqura jumped slightly. Mako cringed slightly and continued, more quietly, "Bloodworthy? The Defenestrator?"

Mand'alor gave her a look that was equal parts indulgence and patience and then nodded.

"Don't worry," Aqura offered, coming up beside the man and subtly gesturing Mako to head to his other side. "She'll be fine once we actually meet them."

He shook his head. "That's fine. And… Mandokarla?"

"Yes?" Then the hunter took a second look at his pained expression and matched it with an equally pained grin. "Right. That was a… miscommunication."

"I said I was sorry," Mako grumbled.

Aqura didn't much like Mand'alor, but the look he gave her said, "kids, what can you do?" so eloquently that she at least had to agree.

"That's something we're going to have to sort out as soon as possible." Mand'alor stopped in front of a door. "The time you took getting here was enough for rumours of your name to spread. I've got warriors on my ship thinking your name is Aqura Mandokarla. The best I've managed is to push for just calling you Mandokarla. I'm tired of it, and we're going to deal with it here."

He opened the door, revealing two people and a droid standing in Mand'alor's… chambers? Office? Meeting room, Aqura settled on.

She liked the way the Zabrak carried herself. She looked ready to fight. Maybe these were the ones spreading the most rumours, and Aqura would get to beat them into taking everything back?

"Aqura, Mako," Mand'alor rumbled, gesturing towards each of them, "meet Jewl'a Nightbringer, Bloodworthy, and Defenestrator."

In turn, he gestured to the red-skinned Zabrak woman, the honest-looking human man, and the droid.

Wait. Aqura tried to shoot Mako a look, but the girl was too busy trying to figure out how to introduce herself properly. No answers there on how a droid had won the Great Hunt. She was asking about that later. It felt insulting. Nobody could program the kind of skill it took to hunt.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Mand'alor nodded to each of the other three Champions in turn. Taking a position with them on the far side of his desk, he raised a hand towards them. "Mako, you went through the blooding with Aqura. Seems fitting. I need to know if you're looking to become Mandalorian, too."

"No," Mako said firmly, and every eye and optic that wasn't already looking at her snapped to. She blushed. "I mean, I'm not specifically trying to become a Mandalorian. I'm with Aqura. If the only way she'll let me help is if I'm a Mandalorian, too, then I'll be one."

Aqura was glad she was wearing a helmet, because it hid the tears in her eyes. She almost hugged her sister right there, and would have if the girl didn't already look so embarrassed meeting her idols.

Mand'alor placed both his hands on his desk with a metallic clang. "Which brings me to the Black List and the Grand Champions. Specifically, the first target on the Black List."

"That's not news," spat the Zabrak woman. "That's just one of your little traditions."

The other man, Bloodworthy, chuckled. "Don't be so bitter, Jewl'a. Making it out alive is almost a win."

"It's not just a tradition this time, Jewl'a." Mand'alor stared into Aqura's faceplate. "This time, it's all or nothing. Isn't it, Mandokarla?"

"This is it, then?" Aqura asked. "The test that will give us a name?"

"A name?" The droid was the one that spoke up this time. It actually sounded curious. Then it said more quietly, "I see. Fascinating."

"What?" This time, Jewl'a.

"The new Grand Champion, or Grand Champions, plan to form a new clan."

"Enough," Mand'alor said. "I will explain, in detail, if you just let me."

Jewl'a crossed her arms, Bloodworthy nodded that he accepted, and the droid made no movement. Both Aqura and Mako just waited until Mand'alor was satisfied.

"Good. Aqura, you've proven yourself to the clans. Now it's time to prove yourself to me. I'm sending you after Jicoln Cadera."

Aqura squinted, then tilted her head. "Jicoln Cadera is dead. That's what happens when you fight Mand'alor and lose." She bristled. "It's what happened to my family, Mand'alor."

And she'd kill him for that some day, if this fell through. He was a reasonable man, she gave him that. He was even trying to help her. If he gave her family a place, well, she might not forgive him, but she wouldn't endanger her family by attacking him. As long as she and Mako and Gault succeeded at whatever he was asking, he'd live.

Except, apparently he was asking her to kill a ghost. That brought his chances of reaching the same state up fast.

"Jicoln Cadera is alive," Mand'alor declared, "as much as anybody can be, hiding out on a planet like Taris. He proved a lot harder to kill than we expected. As Mand'alor, I can't have my enemies running around causing trouble, so he's been on the Black List for ten years, and each of us has gone after him once or twice since then. Today, we're sending you."

"I get it," Aqura growled. "Prove my loyalty."

Cut off the head of the snake her family had once been part of and prove she was through with her family's rebellion. It was the perfect test, too good to be true.

"What's the catch?"

Mand'alor blinked.

"Mandokarla," said Bloodworthy, speaking slowly as if to a child, "Cadera has been on the most wanted list of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy for a decade. Each of us has barely survived going after him. That's the catch."

Aqura nodded. "Mako?" she asked, turning to look at her partner. "See what you can dig up on Cadera and Taris." She looked at the group. "If you've got stories of your hunts with him, I'll hear them. I heard a few stories about him when I was a kid. Give me a few months and-"

"Oh, shut up," Jewl'a snapped. She rounded the table and got right up in Aqura's face, which also brought her half a second and a popped vibroblade from dead. She seemed alright, though, so Aqura let it slide. "You want to take on the hazing bounty, fine. Mand'alor wants it done for good, whatever, he's your boss. But don't treat this like some trip to the park, kid. You and your sister are barely in the door, and you've never seen a Black List bounty. You're not getting this one first try."

"Jewl'a, right?" Aqura asked conversationally. "Can you fit a helmet over those horns?"

The zabrak's golden eyes went wide as Aqura grinned and headbutted her. Lightly, because it was a cheap shot. Barely at all, because the woman had reflexes like a sleen.

"Aqura!" Mako yelled. "Again?"

Jewl'a threw a few punches that Aqura blocked and returned in kind, laughing. Osik, the woman was fast. She didn't even block in return, just sidestepped and tackled Aqura to the ground, throwing in elbows and knees on the way down.

Aqura laughed and managed to get a firm enough grip to pull-

WHACK

Her head slammed against the back of her helmet as it hit the ground.

That- Jewl'a had just headbutted her!

"Oya!" Aqura threw the woman, who roared while Mako let out a short scream and dove out of the way.

Jewl'a didn't land well, but she scrambled to her feet fast enough to throw a gauntleted punch at Aqura's helmet by the time the Mandalorian was back on her feet. Aqura couldn't stop laughing. Sure, Jewl'a was older than her, but she was still in her prime. Bloodworthy looked a little past that, and Mand'alor was teetering on the edge. And, Aqura thought as an elbow almost caught her in the throat, Jewl'a was vicious in a way that only those who learned how to fight while outmatched were.

That was alright. Aqura had spent her whole life fighting people who were outmatched against her. Now she just had to prove it.

Then maybe get Jewl'a's holo frequency. The two of them deserved a serious fight.

Aqura paid for her momentary distraction with an overextended elbow, but at least Jewl'a didn't break it. That was nice of her, even if it was mostly because Aqura almost snapped her arm in return to keep the Zabrak from following through on the technique. Still, Aqura kept the arm back after that. Any more might do some real damage, and Jewl'a really would have broken the arm in a real fight.

Without bringing her legs or tech into the mix, Aqura was, as usual, down to improvisation. So she let Jewl'a back her up towards Mand'alor's desk, then leapt up onto it and dove forward. She caught Jewl'a in the chest, bore her to the ground, and rolled to take her arm between her legs in an armbar.

"I'm already down an arm," she told the woman growling into the back of a gold-armoured knee. "You either try biting through armour weave or I take yours. Or we can call it even."

Even, because Jewl'a Nightbringer didn't seem like the sort of woman to take losing well.

The red-skinned woman nodded and tapped out, then they both got to their feet.

The clanging of armoured applause greeted them as they stood. Bloodworthy was grinning and even the droid was clapping softly.

"Kandosii," Mand'alor said, "the both of you. Though I hope you don't plan on starting a fight every time we meet, Mandokarla."

Aqura grinned back and then looked at Jewl'a. "I dunno. Will you be inviting good sparring partners every time?"

Jewl'a grimaced back and licked a split lip. "Lucky I wasn't playing serious, Mando. I've taken on bigger Mandalorians than you in my sleep."

"I've never seen one manage an armbar in full beskar'gam, though," Bloodworthy commented. "Wish I'd gotten a picture of that."

"I've got the whole thing recorded," Mako sighed. She rolled her eyes and did a quick scan of Aqura's elbow before looking warily at Jewl'a. "Does this mean you'll tell us about Jicoln Cadera now? Seems like the sort of thing you Grand Champions do."

Jewl'a stared at Mako for a few seconds, eyes narrowed. "Mandokarla's been teaching you how to fight?"

"W-well, yeah," Mako said. "I mean, I can't fight like that, but-"

"It's a start," Jewl'a interrupted. She looked between the two of them. "You two get Jicoln, maybe I'll call the kid a Champion."

"I'm not sure I want to go through that to get the title," Mako muttered, glancing meaningfully between Aqura and Jewl'a. Jewl'a barked a laugh that verged on mean-spirited.

"If we are finished brawling on the floor," the droid interjected, "is there anything else we are needed for?"

Mand'alor shook his head. "Nothing that can't be dealt with over drinks. Follow me and we'll see whether the new Champions' drinking matches their fighting!"

He led them into the hall and to the next room over, where a table was already laid out with a seat and mug for each of them.

"Ah," Aqura whispered to herself. "Osik."

* * *

"...ura. Aquuuura. Psst. Aqura."

"Mrrgflrrmbl," Aqura responded to the best of her ability. She didn't try to open her eyes. Everything hurt and everything was too bright. Her muscles were sore and her mouth was somehow both dry and slimy at the same time.

"Osik, Aqura, are you alright?"

"Gwwway," Aqura whimpered, burrowing into her covers in time to realize that she was overheated. And cold.

"Alright. We're on our way to Taris now. I'll get some water and painkillers… maybe some kolto. Man, you only drank half what I did. What happened?"

"RRGHRR!" Aqura yelled, not opening her mouth in case the nausea hit again.

She was going to die. She was going to die, and it would be sweet relief.

The light went away, and just a little of the pain Aqura was feeling lessened.

"I'll come back later."

* * *

Aqura did her very best to move straight towards the middle part of the ship. After a day of nausea-enforced wakefulness, now she was just exhausted. It was better than the hangover had been, but it still kept her from thinking straight.

Gault was there, coming up the stairs looking happy and rested and all smirky with his pointy red nose and chin.

Aqura gave a deep sigh and rubbed her eyes. She had to stop walking to do it, because she wasn't feeling up to walking anywhere with her eyes closed at the moment. Then she yawned.

"Oh, good, you're alive," Gault said in a sort of jokingly insincere way. "It would have been awkward landing on Taris without you. I'm in your will getting the ship, right?"

Half a glare with one eye still closed wasn't enough to quiet the man, so the effort was refocused into getting to the holoterminal.

"You're not making that call now, are you?" Gault asked, sidling up beside her and looking her up and down.

Now resting both eyes, Aqura nodded. "We'll be at Taris soon, right?"

"Mm-hm," Gault answered, eyebrow raised. "And you're a mess. Did somebody try to poison you? Mako says you went drinking with the other Grand Champions and didn't even throw in a good word for me. I'm going to have to come supervise next time."

Good, Aqura thought. You can drink their alcohol for me.

The thought of that stuff made her feel a bit nauseous again. It wasn't that it was different from the other alcohol she'd ever seen, it was just… well, some hut'uun had invented a poison once upon a time. Then somebody else had taken a look at that poison, noticed it tasted like poison, made people sick like poison, and could even kill people, just like any self-respecting sentient would expect poison to do… and then that shabuir had decided to sell that poison, and the entire galaxy had started drinking it. For fun.

The entire galaxy had a lonely brain cell.

"Hey, Gault," Mako's voice came up the stairs quietly, accompanied by her footsteps, "do you think Man- oh, wow, Aqura, you look terrible."

"Thanks," Aqura grumbled, not even opening her eyes. She'd open them when she called Bloodworthy, then close them again right afterwards. And sleep. With water. Lots of water.

It was days like this when Aqura wished she knew anything about medicine.

"Ookay," Mako said slowly, and Aqura heard her push Gault aside to stand nearer. Then Mako put a hand on Aqura's forehead. It felt gross because it felt too clean. It made Aqura think about all the sweat and stink on her face and in her hair. She needed a sonic shower, if not a full-blown water one.

"You're going back to sleep after this, right?" Mako asked. "Because I could handle this if you want."

Aqura shook her head and brushed away Mako's hand, though she gave it a squeeze before letting go. "Thanks, but you know how tradition is," she said softly. With one hand, Aqura entered the ID they'd gotten from Mand'alor. Mako could have done the same thing in a tenth the time, but that only occurred to the hunter moments after the terminal started signalling.

What also occurred to her as the image of Bloodworthy appeared above the terminal was that it would probably have been a good idea to put on her armour before calling a fellow Grand Champion.

At he didn't look as unimpressed as he should. Maybe it was just the geometrical wings tattooed around his right eye being distracting, but Aqura didn't notice any disgust or disappointment from him. He just looked like he was dealing with business as usual.

"Mandokarla. Story time is over. This is as close to a briefing as you're going to get, and since I'm the last one to try for Jicoln and live to tell about it, this is me officially passing the torch." He stood straighter and crossed his arms. "The last piece of information we never gave you: where on Taris Jicoln was last seen. This information'll cost you. Time to ante up, hunter."

Right, right, Aqura thought. She did her part, transferring the credits, and looked up to see Bloodworthy checking his datapad and nodding.

"Good. Transmitting coordinates to you now. That's about it, hunter. Anything else, you'll get from your partner or already got off Jewl'a, if you can remember." He gave Aqura a look that definitely showed what he though of her ability to hold her liquor. "One more thing before I go, Mandokarla."

Aqura nodded, just to show she was listening. Bloodworthy pointed at her, like chastising a hound.

"I don't know what you did to piss Mandalore off, but he needs you to succeed here as much as he wants you to fail. Almost everyone who goes after Cadera dies, and you're going to be one of them unless you cool your head and listen to your partner. She's clearly the brains of the outfit." He shot her a final glare, reached down to turn off his holocomm, and ended with, "come back alive and maybe you can make yourself useful."

The holo cut off, leaving Aqura a little stunned.

"Osik," she breathed, looking sideways at her sister. "What was that about, Sparks?"

Mako shrugged. "Probably has something to do with the fight you started. Or the second fight you started. Either way, looks like he likes you as much as the Defenestrator does."

"Well, it's nice to know common sense pools at the top," Gault commented, leaning on the console and shooting Aqura a smirk. "Don't worry, kid, we've got some ideas. Don't we, Mako?"

"Uh-huh. I've got a line on a Mandalorian hunting party near our destination. I'll keep looking for more, but it's a start."

"Hold on," Aqura groaned, forcing her eyes open long enough for them to drift closed again. "What's this about a second fight?"

There definitely hadn't been a second fight. Not that Bloodworthy had seen. Right? Just the first one with Mand'alor and then the one with Jewl'a. Right?

Mako sighed and shook her head. "Go to sleep, Mandokarla," she said, drawing out the title with just a hint of sarcasm. Or maybe a lot. It was hard to tell right now. "We'll wake you when we get there."

Aqura nodded and turned to crawl back into bed. Maybe she'd feel better later.

She downed the glass of water by her bed and collapsed.


	15. Taris 1

"Of all the nice places we've been to…" Mako trailed off, gesturing around.

Aqura took it all in from the ramp of the shuttle.

Up in the sky were trees, tall ones, but sickly-looking. They matched the sky and clouds, grey and green and shriveled, less like things clinging to life and more like an entire landscape that had risen from the dead. Even the buildings. They were skeletal, and so was the wall that surrounded the Imperial base camp, gutted and hanging onto themselves by exposed rebar and H-beams.

"This place is a mess," Gault said, summing it all up helpfully. "What happened?"

"Well," Mako said hesitantly, her eyes flickering, "a long time ago some Sith Lord named Darth Malak had the place bombed."

"Bombed," Gault echoed. He looked around. The place did look bombed. There were ragged buildings in the distance that had doubled over, craters in their sides. It was more than that, though. It was… "Somebody bombed a whole planet? Who has time for that?"

Mako shrugged. "It was a Sith. I can picture it." She raised a hand and swept it before her, proclaiming in a deep voice, "wipe this pathetic planet from the face of the galaxy."

The girl coughed a few times, probably as much from the nasty-smelling air as how deep she'd managed to make her voice go. It had been impressive. She recovered, blushing, and looked at Aqura. "Give me a few seconds with a voice synthesizer and I bet I could make a pretty good Sith."

Aqura had to grin. "I'll let you borrow the helmet later."

"I was kidding!" Mako crossed her arms and looked ready to find her own way around the camp for a few seconds, then she gave Aqura a sidelong glance. "Really?"

The Mandalorian gave a laugh and a nod, then stepped off the landing platform and onto the prefabricated outpost floor. Her feet clanked lightly on the metal for the first few steps, then she got her rhythm and the sound lost its intrusive volume.

She grimaced. Walking loudly or quietly, it felt like she was clanking around or tiptoeing across a graveyard. Either way felt wrong in entirely different ways, disrespectful or quietly foreboding.

Mako pointed the way to the Mandalorian camp overlapping the Imperial section of the base and they headed off.

Aqura kept changing the way she walked along the way, trying to find something that didn't feel completely out of touch with the deafening deadness of the world and earning a raised eyebrow from Mako for her troubles.

"You said this place was bombed," the hunter said, trying to distract her friend. "That means there wasn't really any fighting. Everybody here died helpless."

It wasn't really a question, but Mako nodded.

Aqura finished her thought with, "this whole planet is a graveyard of innocents."

"Stars, Mandokarla," Gault grumbled, "you sure know how to make a place seem even less inviting."

"It gets worse," Mako supplied. Her eyes were flickering and she was starting to look concerned. Almost scared. "A… lot worse."

Gault shrugged. "Ruins and pollution, from the looks of it. Don't go near anything taller than a few meters and don't drink anything, to start. We're not going to have to fight mutated trees, are we?"

Aqura tried to imagine what that would be like and decided that, if her flamethrower couldn't burn down the tree, it was too big and she wasn't going to bother.

Mako shook her head and spoke in a distant sort of way. "No. Taris was a city planet, like Nar Shadaa. Not many plants or animals. I guess it explains how there's still pollution. Not much left to… that's not what I'm talking about, guys. There's-"

She was interrupted by a human Mandalorian walking directly up to them, his helmet off and exposing some impressive battle scarring across one side of his face. The eye on that side was a bright red cybernetic implant. He was an older Mandalorian, maybe in his forties. A man with a lot of experience fighting and the wits or luck to get out when things got bad.

"Su cuy'gar, vod," the man said, bowing his head slightly. "What brings me the honour of having Mand'alor's chosen in my camp?"

"Su cuy'gar," Aqura replied automatically. She gestured to Mako and Gault. "We're hunting a dead man. Jicoln Cadera, the Schism leader."

The man's eye went wide, then narrowed and he glanced around quickly. He nodded, then gestured for them to follow him towards a tent further into the camp. He led them past dozens of other Mandalorians, opened the flap to the tent for the trio, then followed them inside, all without a word.

Once they were inside, he walked up very close to Aqura and spoke quietly enough not to be heard outside the tent.

"Jicoln Cadera is dead," he hissed. Then, more loudly, "Name'ss Vorten Fett, ruus'alor of this group."

Aqura blinked. She opened her mouth to speak, but Gault cut her off.

"Commander - can I call you Commander? - it's good to meet you. My name's Gault Rennow. Thanks for the hospitality." He said this, if anything, too loudly. Then he suddenly went quiet and whispered, "unless he died since Mandalore sent the last guys after him, he's out there. We need any leads you've got."

The conversation continued in that way, leaving Aqura baffled as each man spoke something loudly, then quietly.

"Not much to offer on this rock, but you will have what we can give and what you can take, besides. Standing bounty on local Republic colonists, if you can get past their military… If Jicoln's alive, been quiet as a ghost. Will need a tracker."

"We'll be out of your hair soon, Commander, just here to do a bit of hunting, I hear there are some really vile things out there… what's a tracker worth to you?"

"Heard right. The rakghouls are some of the worst I've seen. Be careful if you don't want to end up one of them… Know a tracker who'll want a piece of the kill. For the Grand Champion, available for the asking… You've got to be especially careful about the swarms. Even if they don't tear you apart, Taris'll kill you as quickly as the raks if you make a wrong move… Problem is, he's missing. Maybe injured, maybe captured. Can give you where we last saw him and who might have captured him."

Aqura shook her head. "I'm not bringing along anyone who's just going to get himself killed."

Unsure of which things being said were supposed to be whispered, she erred on the quiet side. From the lack of glaring from Gault, it seemed like the right choice. Ruus'alor Fett didn't seem happy with her, though. He narrowed his eyes at her dangerously.

"Torian's the only tracker you're getting. One of my best." Fett hissed. "You get him or a thousand Mando'ade trying to beat you to Jicoln."

Gault stepped in, grinning heartily and dragging Vorten's attention back to him. "That's something to think about, Commander. Maybe if you could just give us a map of the area and a few places to pick up supplies or anything else we might need, we'll be on our way. How does that sound?"

The Ruus'alor grunted and nodded. "Good enough for me. Give me a datapad and I'll mark down what I can. Don't expect more from my troops here; they've got enough problems without adding your hunting to the list. Keep in touch if you find anything out there and don't cause any trouble you can't handle. Mandalore's Chosen or not, you'll be on your own. Here."

He handed back Mako's datapad, now marked with whatever he'd put on it, and nodded towards the tent's entrance.

Gault politely nodded back and ushered the other two back out of the tent. Aqura tried to ask him what was going on, but he just shushed her until they reached the edge of the camp. Mako got to answer a question or two about directions, leading them past the camp walls and over a bridge defended from some local wildlife, but the trip was mostly silent. When they stepped off the bridge, Gault looked around, back at the green lake surrounding the camp, around at the twisted trees and military wreckage around them, and finally spoke.

"Well, that went well."

Aqura fired some warning shots at an approaching pair of nexu and winced when one of the shots hit. The pack cats ran off and she asked Gault, "so what exactly happened? Did we agree to rescue the tracker?"

"Sure, and to not bother Vorten again or talk to any of his people about who we're after." Gault traced a finger over his broken horn. "Don't know why he's so hung up on this one tracker, though. Mako?"

Mako shook her head. "I've got the places for us to go figured out." She pointed. "That's about all, though." Then she shivered and looked around nervously.

"What's wrong?"

"Rakghouls," Mako whispered, edging closer to Aqura.

The armoured woman raised her blaster and scanned the area for whatever was scaring her sister. "What are rakghouls? Fett said something about swarms?" Her finger twitched, ready to activate a micromissile.

"No, they're not… they're not here. It's just the other thing he said, about ending up as one of them."

"Yeah," Aqura agreed, lowering her blaster but still watching the area. "He did say that. Didn't make a lot of sense, though. What'd it mean?"

Mako shook her head. "Let's… let's just go. If we find this guy, we can find Jicoln, then we can get away from this place."

She started walking off in the direction she'd pointed before, but Aqura put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Mako, if there's something wrong, you can tell us. You don't have to be here if you don't want to. It's because of me we're here. I can go with Gault, or alone if you want company back on the ship."

The slicer looked tempted for a couple of seconds. Then she took Aqura's hand and pulled her along. "No," she said. "It's my clan now, too. Just… if anything humanoid and grey comes at us, kill it as fast as you can, alright?"

"Oya," Aqura replied, and kept her eyes peeled as they traveled.

The journey managed to emphasize the bleakness of the planet more than the twisted hulks of metal and green lake had. Everything they saw, the grass and animals and ancient roads, looked less like it was clinging to life and more like it had died and been brought back. The only exception were the patrols of Republic soldiers the trio kept making detours to avoid. Those, at least, seemed as if they were still being drained, still in the process of being sucked dry by the world itself.

"How much further?" Aqura whispered when they hadn't seen signs of Republic forces for ten minutes. It felt less unnatural to whisper in this place.

Mako slowed and started looking around the paved rubble and grey grass shaded by a tall mushroom-shaped structure.

"This is where the tracker was last heard from, apparently." She pointed at a couple of Republic turret emplacements and the duracrete cover beside them. "I guess the Republic had this area before. I just wish I knew when."

"Yeah," Gault said, "me, too. With all the fighting, most of the dangerous stuff around here's probably dead. It's probably why we haven't seen any of the really nasty things around here…" He gave Mako an apologetic look. "We're probably going to see those rakghoul things if we keep moving away from the front."

Mako nodded silently. She'd been jumpy the entire walk, and Aqura kept wanting to insist she get back to the ship and wait for them, but that wouldn't work.

Nobody left Mako behind.

"How do we know if he's around here, anyway?" Aqura moved to split up with the other two, just enough that she could shoot anything that got near them, but far enough to see around the mushroom building. "We can't exactly yell for him."

She felt like she was tempting fate just talking loud enough to be heard from further than spitting distance.

"Can't exactly wait around and hope he shows up, either," Gault muttered darkly. His voice carried through the dead air. "Never know what's going to show up in a place like this."

"I can…" Mako trailed off, eyelids fluttering. "I could set up a… beacon to trigger Imperial IFF transponders. All it'd take would be one of our spare commlinks and an extra power source. Maybe in one of the turrets?"

Aqura shrugged, popped a vibroblade, and walked towards the turrets. Without a word, Gault and Mako moved to cover her back, so she knelt down in the gangrenous dirt and got to work, cutting through bolts and prying open the turret's side to expose all the complicated wires and pieces inside.

She peered in, turning on a pair of tiny lights on her helmet to get a good look at the wires and maybe guess which ones were important or dangerous. After a few seconds she was satisfied she had no idea what she was looking at and started to stand.

"It's them!"

The panic in Mako's voice brought Aqura to her feet with blaster ready in less time than the thought took.

A wave of stunted grey humanoids, corpselike creatures of teeth and claws, scrabbled over the rubble at them.

A micromissile hit one of them center mass, killing three and splattering green blood across half of the others.

The rest didn't even slow down.

The three of them poured blasterfire at the rakghouls and every shot hit something, but the creatures only filled in the gaps and kept charging.

"Get away!" Mako shrieked, backing away and firing wildly. She still hit, but the shots didn't always kill the monsters.

Aqura grit her teeth. "Get back!" she yelled, and stepped forward.

In another step, she was in the air, launched high enough to see the full swarm. Then she opened fire.

"Oya!"

Three missiles roared down into the horde, punching holes into the group and finally making it look manageable. Empty, Aqura launched a grapple line at one of the lead rakghouls and pulled it up and herself down.

Then she slammed down amongst the swarm, vibroblades ready and flamethrower already blazing.

"Aqura!"

It's Mandokarla on mission, Aqura thought, and laughed.

The rakghouls had stopped charging. Now they turned on her, as if a golden meteor of fire and blaster bolts was just more food.

One of the creatures finally hit her and she managed to throw it off, then gut the next one, but in the moment she turned off her flamethrower to avoid hitting herself, the rest were on her.

Aqura had never seen so many teeth in her life. Many of them weren't even in their owner's mouths anymore, shattered and sprayed bloody through the air as the rakghouls gnashed at beskar armour plating.

All of that would be fine, but the numbers were starting to push her to the ground, the suit's hydraulics unable to compensate for blood-slicked, uneven footing.

"Flashbang!"

She heard Gault's yell just in time to trigger the blackout function on her helmet. Everything went dark and silent and all she could feel was the bodies shoving her to the ground and the pressure of teeth and claws trying to get through the armour weave at her joints.

Even with that, she felt the sound on the armour and in her chest. She ended the blackout and saw blood-slicked grey bodies writhing in pain around her.

She gutted three of them and activated her jetpack to escape the rest.

Osik, she'd dropped her blaster at some point.

Not that it mattered. With all the chaos, Mako and Gault finished off the last group of rakghouls while Aqura was in the air. She landed with a weird combination of squelching grime and crunching stone beside them.

The rakghouls were all dead. All of them.

Osik, that was a lot of monsters. A literal pile of them where she'd been swarmed, in bloody and scorched pieces strewn about the rubble and atop each other, one even leaning as if still standing against the rest.

"Thank-"

Aqura cut off as Mako leapt on her, grabbing her arm and babbling so fast it was impossible to follow what she was saying, just words about bites and blood and armour. In seconds, the slicer had checked Aqura's limbs and was looking at her torso, then started a second, more thorough check.

Finally, Mako started on a third check, trembling.

"Mako, what-"

"You're alright," she whispered. "You're alright, you're okay. You didn't get bitten?"

"No, they never got through my armour. Mako, what's wrong?"

Mako was so afraid it was starting to scare Aqura.

The girl sighed, but her eyes were still wide and darting around, wary. Then they locked on the pile of bodies.

"They're dead, Mako."

"I wonder who they were."

That was a weird question. It didn't even make enough sense to respond to. Aqura pushed her friend back towards the the turret. "Come on," she said. "We've still got a tracker to rescue and I need to reload and find my blaster."

Mako barely budged. She just kept staring at the bodies.

"He could be one of them," she murmured dully. "You could have been one of them."

"Mako," Aqura tried, "you're not making any sense. Gault, a little help?"

Gault came to put a hand on Mako's shoulder, though he leaned away and wrinkled his pointed nose at Aqura. "She's right, kid. We've got one problem over, another waiting. Let's get this done and get out of here as fast as we can. Sound good?"

Mako nodded, slowly at first, then faster, then frantically. Then, just once she shook her head and she looked into Aqura's eyes.

"Don't ever let them get close to you again," she said. "Those things… don't let them bite you, even once."

She practically stumbled over to the turret to set up the beacon and Gault went looking for Aqura's blaster while the Mandalorian stood watch, which was nice of him.

Eventually, though, Aqura had to ask, even with Mako barely managing to keep her hands steady at her work.

"Mako," she said softly, "cyar'ika, what's got you so scared of those things? They die like anything else. They bleed."

Mako shook her head, but she didn't say anything for long seconds, even though her hands stilled. She just knelt there, staring into the turret's innards silently.

Eventually, she let out a long, long breath.

"The rakghouls aren't animals," she said so softly Aqura had to lean in to hear her. "They're victims."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Rakghouls are made by the rakghoul plague. They're a disease," Mako explained. She looked at the pile of bodies Gault had fished a blaster out of. "Don't let them bite you."

Aqura caught the blaster Gault threw her automatically, but now her eyes were glued to the pile of bodies just like Mako's had been.

Every one of those things had been a person.

Suddenly Aqura was regretting coming to this planet.


	16. Taris 2

"Done." Mako stood from her work, already looking around nervously.

"Great," Gault said, "now we can go say hi to the locals."

Aqura didn't say anything or even bat an eye at Gault's sarcastically enthusiastic tone. She was too busy watching the area. Watching the area, even if her eyes kept catching on the pile of rakghoul bodies.

Every one of them had been sentient. Verd or ne'kaan, kind or cruel, disease didn't care. And this kind of disease would destroy everything the victim once stood for before it was all over.

Mako and Gault would never be taken by it. Aqura would throw herself in the center of a hundred hordes before she'd let that happen.

She almost ordered them both back to the ship. It was her hunt, after all. But she'd already tried that back on Dromund Kaas. She couldn't bring herself to do it again.

Aliit meant risking these things together.

"This way, then." Mako pointed further away from the front lines and Imperial forces in particular. "Hey, we're not going to destroy anything we don't have to, right? From the way Vorten marked it, we're heading for a colonist outpost, not a military base."

"Sounds good to me," Gault said. "I can work with less chance of getting shot."

He didn't sound like a man watching every shadow with his rifle ready, but Aqura knew better. They were all on edge. It was just that Gault always tried to hide it.

One and all, the shadows were long. Even as they left the cover of the huge mushroom building, crooked and broken skyscrapers and even more wretched trees blocked out any sun that made it through the green-grey clouds.

How long had Jicoln Cadera lived here? Years? More than a decade? Was hunting him even worth it? Was it even possible to kill a man who could survive those things piled back there for more than ten years?

"I meant," Mako said, "are we going after that bounty? Mandokarla?"

Aqura blinked at what she'd finally started to think of as her work name, turning her head for just a second to look at Mako.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The colonists," Mako repeated. "Are we going to, you know, collect the bounty on them?"

That helped Aqura refocus.

She snorted.

"Yeah." Mako shrugged. "Stupid question."

"Better question," Gault added, climbing a pile of rubble that looked as likely to squish as to fall, "what do you plan on doing about a group of colonists holding somebody prisoner if you're not going to shoot them?"

"I'll do what you'd do," Aqura said matter-of-factly. When that just got her blank looks, she rolled her eyes and adopted an exaggerated nasal tone. "This is my big bad Mandalorian friend, and you better give her what she wants or she's not going to be happy."

Gault scowled back at her.

"Well," Mako said to Gault's unspoken denial, "with a voice synthesizer, you might sound…"

She trailed off as Gault turned his scowl on her, but it was only to start giggling at how annoyed the devaronian looked.

Aqura smiled. As utterly stupid as the argument was, at least it distracted her from-

Osik.

Her smiled fell and, seconds later, so did Mako's.

All three of them trudged on, taking a long detour around a pool of something that had probably been sitting for three hundred years, but didn't look any less toxic for it. The stuff didn't even have the usual ripples caused by a breeze, though whether that was because it was some liquid that just didn't ripple or because the air was completely dead was something Aqura wasn't willing to take off her armour to check.

She almost stopped, almost called out to her friends. Maybe to tell them to go back to the ship, maybe to say they were all leaving and abandoning this quest of hers.

She didn't, though. The Mandalorian couldn't bring herself to do anything but follow Mako with a gun at the ready. Not when Aayha and Sho'cye were somewhere out in the galaxy, hiding while Aqura hunted their ticket to freedom. For Aayha and Sho'cye, for Den and Shon and even the members of the clan who'd died before she ever joined, she'd…

Aqura's gaze caught on Mako and Gault, both afraid, both vulnerable to any monster in any shadow.

… for her clan's honour, Aqura would risk even the family she'd made.

The huntress gripped her blaster tighter and moved to the front of the trio. Anything that came close would see her shiny golden shebs first. That was how it should be.

Aliit meant risking things together, but that didn't mean couldn't choose to risk the more important ones less.

And walking in front meant that, when they finally got in sight of the colonist outpost, it was Aqura they saw first. Not that either of her friends would have been nearly as visible no matter where they stood, but Gault definitely blamed the guards running to the entrance of the metal facility on her.

"I blame all the guards on you," he informed her coolly. "I didn't have this problem when I worked alone."

There were more than ten guards taking cover behind makeshift barricades now, and more still filing out. One of them looked like he was fiddling with an automated turret, but it was hard to tell from this distance.

"Aren't you going to go talk to them?" Aqura asked nonchalantly.

Gault snorted. "And get myself shot? You go talk to them."

That made twenty guards, unless all the overlap was throwing off Aqura's count. One of them looked to have a sniper rifle, by the size of the thing, and another had moved on to a second automated turret.

"In full armour? Sure, that'll put them at ease. Su cuy'gar, verd'ike. Tion gal'gala?" She pantomimed an exaggerated wave hello and offering a nonexistent drink.

"Uh, guys?" Mako asked.

"You go," Aqura continued, oblivious. "Nobody's ever afraid of you."

"Right. I'll just go have a chat with all the nice men and women with big guns."

"Guys," Mako repeated, "we've-"

Gault spun around, blaster ready.

"-got company."

Aqura just waited. She wouldn't pretend she'd noticed before Mako's first warning, but there was only one pair of footsteps coming up behind her.

She glanced over to the left, then the right. Mako was watching nervously, hands away from her pistol. Gault had his blaster rifle drawn but hadn't fired. From where they were looking, Aqura guessed the newcomer was walking directly towards her. Armed, from Mako's expression. Walking towards Aqura meant whoever it was had aimed at the shiniest target.

A few more quick conclusions ran through Aqura's head before a naggingly familiar voice said, "thought you'd be harder to get the drop on."

Aqura shrugged, glanced again at Mako and Gault's eyes, and listened to the man shifting his weight behind her.

"I usually am," she admitted. "I'm a little-"

She spun, knocking a blaster aside and grabbing the man's hand more by instinct than sight or feel, then threw the man over her shoulder and slammed him to the ground in front of her with his own blaster pointed at his face.

"-distracted- hey, you're that clever kid from Dromund Kaas."

Aqura stared for a moment. The scars beneath his eyes, the arcs cut by two slashes and probably from his own blooding, were almost covered with Tarisian grime. His blond hair had been chopped short since last time, probably to keep anything from grabbing it. Other than that and some scratches on his armour, he looked exactly the same, just a little more tired.

The Mando caught his breath quickly and wheezed out, "that's… more what I imagined."

Aqura reached down a hand to help him up. "What're you doing here, Mirdala?" She handed him back his blaster pistol, then asked, "your name's not Torian, is it?"

The man's eyes narrowed. He seemed to consider answering for a second, then he said, "you're hunting Jicoln."

And so was he. It matched up. Torian, clever enough to be Fett's best tracker, was the only choice to track down Jicoln because he was already doing that. Evidently, he hadn't been captured at all.

Commander Fett had been genuinely worried about Torian, too. He hadn't known Torian had gone hunting. Torian hadn't told the man anything at all, in fact. That meant that there was some reason for Vorten to suspect Torian as soon as he found out Jicoln was alive.

"You didn't tell Vorten he was alive," Aqura accused. It was galling, the idea that a man would abandon his clan for a personal hunt.

"Not hogging the glory." Torian raised his hands as if to fend off the attack. Even so, he didn't look her in the eye when he said, "got my own reasons."

Reasons known to Vorten, but not to the rest of the clan, perhaps? Something niggled at Aqura's memory, but she was too indignant and frustrated to wait until she could recall it clearly. "Mand'alor ordered me to kill Jicoln. Personally. Is that going to be a problem?"

The glare Torian gave her made Gault whistle.

"Yep," the Devaronian confirmed. "So… does that mean you two are going to fight to the death? Because, if it does, you should start right now."

Torian and Aqura looked at the gun between them and glared in Gault's direction at the same time. Then Aqura flipped the blaster around and handed it to the blond. He took it, then took her hand to stand. From the glance he shot her, he'd probably noticed his blaster's safety was on. He was just wondering when she'd done it.

Aqura grinned, not that he could see it. "The man's a survivalist who's outsmarted and killed hunters for ten years. I can't find him. Do you think you can kill him?"

"I can."

That brought Aqura up short. Maybe she'd gotten her first impression wrong. That was easily the stupidest thing she'd heard a Mandalorian say. Even uncle Lekan hadn't ever had an idea that bad. Well, not that he'd ever told Aqura about.

And Uncle Lekan had gotten himself killed.

Aqura's eyes flicked past Torian to the setting sun and the Republic colonist base, then back to Torian's face. He was as determined as she was, if she was any judge of that kind of thing.

"Alright," she said, and started forward. "Follow me."

"What?"

"It's getting late. We need somewhere to stay." Aqura raised her hands above her head and kept walking towards the Republic base, waving with one hand. "I'd put away my gun if I were you. Gault."

"What?" Gault asked petulantly. "My gun's hidden. It's hidden."

"It always is," Aqura chuckled. "Keep it that way."

She kept walking, and the only thing anybody said on the way in was Torian's comment of, "this is insane," and Gault's reply of, "yeah, but you're still following. She's like that."

The Republic guards kept their guns on Aqura as the group approached and, though her instincts screamed to put herself between Mako and the guns, she moved off to the side instead. That way, at least, she was pulling their aim away from her sister. And Gault. Protecting Gault wasn't too bad.

Aqura grinned at the begrudging tone of her own thoughts. She knew she'd kill for Gault, no matter how dar'hayc he could be. She just didn't know whether she'd die for him just yet.

"You!" shouted one of the guards from three meters away. His hands were shaking.

"Su cuy'gar," Aqura said nonchalantly, hands still raised. "You got any space for the night? Sun's setting and we just met our first rakghouls."

The man's jaw dropped and he stared at her for a handful of seconds. Aqura was wondering how much she'd have to explain when a human man who was dusty and tired enough to look part weequay pushed his way up to Aqura.

"Captain Riss," he said. "Who're you and what are you doing here, Mandalorian?"

"Just looking for a place to spend the night," Aqura said brightly. "Give us two nights and I'll throw in protection for tomorrow. I've got a mir'sheb I need to talk to."

This man, too, was dumbfounded for a few seconds. Then he said, "you still haven't said who you are."

"Oh! Right. Mandokarla, Grand Champion of the Great Hunt." She gestured to her companions. "That's Mako - also Grand Champion - and Gault Rennow and Torian…" She paused. " Torian, what did you say your clan name was?"

"Didn't," was all Torian said in reply.

Aqura froze. Slowly, she turned to look at the young idiot. The Republic guard said something, but she didn't catch it. She was too busy thinking about exactly what that one word meant. And something else clicked. One of the Mando'a back on Dromund Kaas had called Torian arue'tal. Outsider. Just like some had once called Aqura.

Torian was clanless. If he was Mako's age, he'd have been born just as the Schism was being decided. If his clan had held out like Aqura's had… no, nobody had done that. What Denn and the others had done wasn't so much unprecedented as stupid, prideful, and erased from the histories Then Torian was part of one the clans that supported Jicoln and bowed to Mand'alor when the Schism ended. Not adopted or forgotten, but disgraced.

"Psst."

Aqura started slightly at Gault's nudge and tried to process what the guard officer had said. A name. Captain Riss.

"Sorry," she managed. "Captain Riss. Right. You were saying?"

The man gave her a raised eyebrow, but it was like the action took more energy than he had and it didn't last long.

"I said, even if I trusted you, why would I take the risk?"

"Because," Aqura said, folding her arms, "we're here to warn you that there's a bounty on Republic colonists and help you evacuate the area, if you want."

"We are?" Mako blurted out, then she cheered, "that's great!"

Gault sighed. "At least ask for credits this time, would you?"

Mako nodded agreement and Captain Riss looked between the three of them, baffled and maybe a little relieved.

"You're... serious, aren't you?" he asked. A few of the lines on his face softened and he actually looked like a normal human all of a sudden.

"She's also serious about the bounty, buster," Mako chimed in. "You guys have got to get out of here or get way better cover from the Republic. We didn't see anything but wild animals, abandoned posts, and rakghouls on the way here."

Aqura didn't miss the way Captain Riss's eyes flicked down and then up again over her armour. It wasn't disrespectful or even a problem, just oddly common. About half of women and almost all men seemed to assume she was a man under the armour. All except that one Imperial Intelligence officer from Dromund Kaas, Gault, and Torian.

Torian, who was fighting for his clan the same way Aqura was fighting for hers.

The captain took a look over his shoulder at the dimming sunset, then shook his head and shrugged. "Come in, then. Two nights and guard duty for a day. Fair?"

"Fair," Aqura agreed with a grin, and the captain led them all into the base, though he confiscated their weapons first. Gault made a fuss and Torian just quietly glowered, but in the end they made it in and were shown to a set of cots in a surprisingly public room deep within the building.

Torian sat down on one of the cots and started taking off his armour. Mako was off to the side with Gault, outside of earshot but probably lecturing him on not bringing weapons into a colony home. For some reason, they'd only confiscated blasters, leaving both Aqura and Gault with most of their weapons, and Torian with the electrostaff now laid neatly beside his chosen cot.

They were getting a lot of stares from the colonists in the room, anybody who actually had the luxury of sleeping during the night in a place like this. They'd seen walls being put up, flooring being laid, at least two entire computer systems being put together, and supplies being taken all over the place by hand or machine. Sleeping was going to be difficult with all the noise.

Aqura let out a sigh, though even she couldn't tell whether it was relieved or worried after the day she'd had. Then she walked over to Torian and knelt beside him.

"Let me help," she said softly, and reached to unclasp the armour at his sides.

He jerked away, wide-eyed, before calming his expression and settling back down.

"Sorry," they both said at the same time.

There was a moment of silence, then Aqura asked, "do you want help with your armour?"

Torian watched her long enough for Aqura to compare his eyes to Tatooine's vast, burning blue skies. They were like Mako's, eyes that had seen worse than they should have at his age, but without Mako's sense of hopeful potential. A survivor, and one who was still focused on avoiding any mistakes. Still surviving.

Aqura flinched and looked away. It wasn't often she thought of her own life as easy, but at least she'd always had people there for her. Torian didn't look like someone who'd had that.

"Yes," he said.

The word was so brief, so terse, that Aqura spent a full second wondering if she'd imagined it. Then Torian shifted his weight and she found herself instinctively helping to lift away his chestplate. It wasn't like hers, not a full piece, but something cheaper, like the set she'd worn on Dromund Kaas. Underneath it was a simple shirt, not even armour weave and sort of stretched, like he'd started to outgrow it and hadn't thrown it away.

Aqura glanced down, but it wasn't that the shirt was too short. More like Torian had started filling out with muscle recently and now it was a wonder the shirt didn't tear when he raised his arms or flexed those shoulders.

It was a good thing her hands were already helping pull off his greaves out of habit, because she definitely wasn't focusing on that.

"Spar with me."

She blinked at the words, then blinked again when she realized she'd been the one who'd said them.

Again, Torian gave her that look, like he was considering heading out into the Dune Sea.

"Hand to hand."

Aqura cocked her head, unsure of whether it was a question or not, since anything more dangerous than a fist would probably make the colonists here nervous. They were still staring, actually. And Mako and Gault were watching, too, like they didn't have better things to do.

But she nodded and, as she did so, Torian gestured to her.

"Armour," he said.

Oh, right. She reached up to her helmet, then hesitated. She'd originally put on the armour because of a job she'd done for the Empire. One that had technically, sort of been a war crime. Maybe her family had convinced her to wear it for Mando-related reasons, but that wouldn't make the Republic any happier with her.

That had been a neutral planet, though. Even if anybody knew about it, even if they recognized her, they'd have to be pretty petty to make something of it here.

So she pulled off her helmet and shook out her hair, grinning as it got in her eyes and spitting to get it out of her mouth so she could yell, "Mako, help me out of this, would you?"

"A- Mandokarla, what are you doing!?"

"What, you expected me to sleep in my beskar'gam?" Aqura laughed and Mako hurried over to help her out of her armour. Torian spent the entire time watching, like he wasn't sure if he should help or not, and eventually Aqura was down to her undersuit.

The huntress looked down at her black bodysuit, then at Torian's plain clothes. Finally, she looked at the heaps of armour lying on top of their sleeping cots.

"Well," Aqura drawled, "I think I see a problem."

She stood and beckoned to a little girl who looked to be the only person within ten meters. The little girl grinned and started to scamper forward, but was cut off by a man in guard's armour.

"No, Lily," he told her, kneeling down to turn the girl around. "I'll talk to them. You go back to your mommy. Go on."

Then he turned to face the three of them. Gault was off somewhere, hopefully not causing trouble.

"What can I help you with?" the guard asked through a smile that looked a bit like a rictus.

"Storage," Torian said, holding up his chestplate. "Then a sparring arena."

"Just for exercise," Mako said, quickly enough to keep the guard from losing his temper. "Maybe it'd be good for morale. You know, to show everyone who's going to be helping guard the colony tomorrow."

"We don't-" The guard cut off with an audible click of teeth. He shut his eyes, ground his teeth, and took a deep breath, then the stiff smile was back. "Alright. Follow me."

He turned, waved a hand, and started walking out of the sleeping area.

At which point it occurred to Aqura that all their fiddling around with loud, clanking armour hadn't done any favours for the colonists hoping to go to bed for the night.

She blushed, piled her chestplate, helmet, and leg armour onto her arms and smiled an awkward thanks to Mako for taking the gauntlets as they all followed the guard out of the room.

Her embarrassment lasted until they reached the open room outside the sleeping quarters. Within seconds, people were stopping to look at them, even guards nodding their way with various levels of reservation, and there were children following them straight out of the sleeping quarters themselves.

Aqura laughed. She'd won the Great Hunt, met Mand'alor, and completed her blooding, and she'd never felt as notorious as she did right now. The guard led them off to a storage room, pointed at a row of lockers, and then waited while they stowed their armour. By the time they came back out of the room, there was a semicircle of people watching and two transport machines were idling nearby, their drivers watching intently.

The crowd parted at a woman's yell and Gault, Captain Riss, and a slightly plump woman with bristling brown hair stepped through.

"Mandokarla," Gault called out in a stage voice, "how about that fight, huh? C'mon, I've got the chief's permission and everything." He tilted his head towards the plump woman, who gave a nod and a small smile.

"And," Gault continued when they'd gotten close to a circle that was still being cleared in the center of the colony's largest room. He turned to give Aqura a devilish grin. "There's be betting!"

Aqura rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "How're you going to get anybody to bet against me?" she asked.

Then she winced and glanced at Torian. Well, at least he didn't seem offended.

"That's the best part," Gault said, ushering them both into the middle of the ring. He patted her on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper, "nobody knows what the Grand Champion is."

Then he walked out of the ring, whistling a jaunty tune as he met up with Mako and the colony chief.

Time for the fight, then. It was sudden, but nothing Aqura hadn't done before. Maybe not with so many people, and not in her-

"Wait, pare sol." She held up a hand to Torian, then reached back and started undoing her underarmour. She got it to the small of her back before she had to switch hands and everybody realized what she was doing.

"Mandokarla," Gault yelled over the crowd and still-moving machinery, "we're not paying for that kind of show!"

"Usen'ye, osik'shooran," she called back, and pulled off the suit to reveal her underclothes. "It's underarmour, and it doesn't exactly breath."

The smell of her underwear attested to that. Still, if she was going to be in a hand-to-hand contest, black sleeveless shirt and shorts were the way to go. Not a lot of support, though. She tended to rely on her underarmour for that. Now she'd just have to rely on the maturity of-

Aqura looked up to see Torian blushing and averting his eyes. Suddenly she really did feel embarrassed. This wasn't her family she was fighting in front of, not one of her cousins she was sparring.

Something cloth flopped against her head, wrapping around her and she heard Gault yell, "put a shirt on, kid!" She also heard Mako's bark of laughter and a few other people's nervous giggles.

It wasn't actually a shirt, it was Gault's jacket, and it turned out the thing actually had a zipper at the front, which she zipped up to her collarbone. The tall neck of it was going to cause trouble, but if she got caught by it then it was her own fault. It was close enough to her hair that she was used to protecting that area from grabs, anyway.

Twi'lek fighting styles had to focus on keeping their head-tails out of enemy reach. Maybe she could adapt one of those?

"Ready?" Torian asked. For a guy who'd looked away when she wasn't wearing the jacket, he sure was busy looking her over now.

Aqura set her stance and kept her gaze locked on Torian's eyes. Most species, especially humans, had tells based on where they were looking. For the others, the only option was to keep watching the center of mass. It was the difference between knowing what somebody was going to do and just reacting.

She shot Torian a grin and said, "ready."

Then, as the young man nodded, she yelled, "OYA!" and charged.

His eyes widened a moment before she aimed a kick at his stomach. When he blocked it, she pulled back, spun, and kicked at his head. He ducked and Aqura pulled back, ready for his counterattack.

It didn't come. Torian didn't move from his defensive stance. He just started circling slowly, eyes darting up and down Aqura's body.

She came at him again, laughing and switching to a more aggressive style, something with a hint of echani in it. It didn't flow as well as some of her less original techniques, but it kept Torian off balance and on the defensive.

When Aqura finally pulled back, she'd counted three solid contacts. No hits. That wasn't how sparring worked, and she'd disqualify herself on the spot if she drew blood. They needed to be ready tomorrow.

And now she was starting to get suspicious. Torian clearly wasn't fast enough or knowledgeable enough to fight her properly, but he hadn't even tried. She'd had Grandpa Krenn do the same thing to her pretty nearly every time they'd sparred. Of course, Grandpa Krenn had been a dirty, rotten cheater.

Aqura threw a couple of speculative punches to get back into the fight and maybe start smiling again. Manda, she missed that old man.

Following the punches, she launched herself into the air, kicking at Torian's chest in a way meant to bait out a counter. When none came, she landed and stepped into a thrust with her elbow.

Torian moved. Not fast, but straight into her guard where she couldn't hit him, and took three quick contacts on her lower back, her kidneys and lower ribs.

She caught him before he could retreat, literally falling onto her back and lashing out with two contacted kicks that would have snapped his floating ribs before pushing herself up and landing back on her feet, laughing.

That was more like it. Aqura switched stances and styles, opting for something more sinuous, with fewer openings. Torian's eyes narrowed for a moment, but he kept scanning her body, like he didn't know where to watch. That couldn't be it, though. His blocks and those strikes he'd managed had been nearly perfect. Not good enough to let the idiot run off and fight an experienced Mandalorian survivalist alone, but still excellent.

Good enough that she'd let him get a few more hits in before she knocked him on his shebs.

Maybe.

If he was lucky.

This time, though, Torian attacked first. It actually took Aqura off guard, even after only two minutes of fighting. She fell back, barely blocking blow after blow until she had to call up long-unused blocking combinations to keep the man off her. She couldn't make sense of where he was aiming. He didn't seem to need to look where he was hitting to make perfect and precise shots all across her body. Half the time she found herself moving to block from one direction and the attack would come from somewhere else entirely.

She stepped back, watching Torian's sky-blue eyes, and prepared for a grab.

Torian stepped back, breathing hard. Aqura's breath was coming in a sort of panting laughter, too.

"Kandosii, ner vod," she complimented. "I haven't had a good fight like this in ages."

Torian frowned, but didn't say anything. His eyes were still doing that thing where he scanned her entire body, but she noticed his gaze lingering now, darting from one spot to another, watching for half a second, and moving on. It was a strange contrast to his attack moments before, when his eyes hadn't moved from hers.

"Mandokarla," Gault yelled, "chief says she'll provide kolto if you two step it up a notch."

Aqura barked a laugh. "I'm not your prize fighter, Gault. You're the one who wanted to make a spectacle of a sparring match. I'm not beating the snot out of somebody for your gambling ring."

The crowd oohed at what they probably thought was an insult, either to Gault or Torian, and there was some booing at her refusal to step up the fight to what they'd probably all been expecting.

Blood sport. If they wanted some of that, they could step into the ring with her. Violence was a thing to be experienced, not watched.

"Tor!" Mako's voice cut through the crowd. "Fifty credits if you black the Grand Champion's eye!"

Oh, come on!

Aqura meant to shoot Mako a glare, but her eyes caught on Torian, who was giving Mako a nervous sort of smile.

Oh. Oh…

Heh. She could work with that. After all, Mako was cute and probably lonely.

It occured to Aqura that they'd never actually had a conversation about men. It was possible Mako didn't even like them.

The huntress shrugged. She could make a show of this, then. Maybe not a blackened-eye type of show, but she was already wondering what was going on with Torian's fighting style.

There. New goal. Figure out what was going on with Torian's eyes boring into her every time they had any space.

So Aqura used her favourite problem-solving skill.

She attacked.

The sparring match continued similarly. In fact, it followed the same pattern, exactly. Aqura attacked twice, then Torian made his own assault. The same pattern, over again, until Aqura had to make a pretty desperate lunge to the side to get out of the way of a grab to her - Gault's - oversized collar. She hadn't seen the move coming and she overbalanced. The slip became a roll, and she came up ready to block.

Torian was just standing there, still watching, eyes still flicking across Aqura's body. This time, Aqura tried to follow what he was looking at, where he was looking and why. It was like-

He attacked again, the second time in a row. Again, his eyes were locked on hers, but his strikes had a definite pattern to them.

This wasn't working. He wasn't using anything but basic Mandalorian hand-to-hand, but his timing was so good that it was impossible to block them all.

She switched to a kaleesh style, ignored the block, and lashed out with a knife-hand strike. Torian's eyes widened and he simply stepped back. Aqura pressed the attack until Torian wasn't throwing counterattacks anymore. It was long seconds before Aqura realized that she wasn't going to learn anything this way, and her goal wasn't really to win, anyway.

Two steps back took her out of Torian's reach, and he watched her warily as she stood there, both of them considering what to do next.

There was a pattern to Torian's moves. He was matching her speed, and nobody did that. Nobody who hadn't mastered their technique down to instinct, at least, and Torian's relatively sloppy blocks proved he hadn't done that.

What was he doing that let him keep hitting her!?

She watched his eyes still. The trick was there. It had to be. It was the only other thing about his fighting style that made no sense.

When he made no move to attack, she went on the offensive. He was following a pattern, so if she had to oblige whatever plan he had, she'd do it. She attacked him twice, switching fighting styles three times throughout, and finally they were back to where she wanted them.

Your turn, she thought.

She'd barely finished thinking the words when Torian attacked.

And there was the pattern. It was right on the edge of her mind as she blocked each of his attacks, changing form with every move to find movements that could actually keep up with his strangely, perfectly timed moves. But she knew the moves by instinct and, somehow, she knew his, too. After a flurry of blows, he pulled back, both of them breathing hard and Aqura laughing with all the breath she had to spare.

There was something there. She wasn't sure what it was, yet, but Torian was done. He wouldn't hit her again.

He attacked again, and this time she figured it out. She moved each time to block the places he'd looked at, the ones he'd lingered on like he was marking them as targets, and she started to plan.

When he disengaged this time, she knew he was going to attack again. He didn't move any differently, his stance didn't shift, he had no tells except the way he watched her. He was picking his next targets, in order, and when he attacked he wouldn't have to look at them again.

When he attacked, she was ready. She blocked the first three strikes, waiting for the right moment. When it came, she let him hit her. In fact, she moved into it.

Her eye exploded in pain as her head rocked back, but she took the momentum, grabbed Torian's arm, and slammed him to the ground. The man tried to get free on the way down, but Mandalorian martial arts didn't teach anything to counter twi'lek restraint techniques, and he hit the ground with a rush of air. Without the benefit of lekku, she settled for grabbing his hair, and it seemed to work well enough.

"Parjai," she declared.

Torian tried to nod, couldn't do that, and settled for tapping his free hand against his thigh.

"Victory," Aqura repeated, raising her head so everyone watching could hear. She looked specifically at Gault and asked, "is that good enough for you, Uncle Gault?"

Gault scowled at the nickname, making Aqura grin even wider, but he nodded. "Fight's over," he called, "everybody report to the cute human with the tech in her head for their winnings."

It took another second for Aqura to realize she was still kneeling on the very muscular man underneath her, and she stood up quickly. She reached out a hand to help him up, but Torian pushed himself up before even turning around to see her, and she let her hand drop.

The crowd bustled, arguing and joking and generally making enough noise to deafen a sullustan while Gault had some guards push crates out of the way so he could walk into the ring.

He strode up to Aqura, matching her grin, and said, "that was great! Stars, you should have seen how the betting went up when the boy started throwing real punches."

Aqura rolled her eyes and ignored the man. Gault was a con man, but she didn't much care what happened to the credits of a bunch of people showing up to watch two Mando'ade beat the snot out of each other.

"Torian," she said, turning to look at him.

He stopped, apparently already moving to leave the makeshift arena. A series of expressions went across his face too quickly to read, and he said, "yeah?"

"Go get your fifty credits from Sparks, then we should talk. And Gault," she continued, cutting off whatever the old Devaronian was saying about his profits, "get me some of that kolto I was promised. This is going to swell up nicely."

She grinned and resisted the urge to cover her quickly-bruising eye as she followed Torian out into the crowd. People laughed, patted them on the shoulders, and shoved Torian playfully for losing, but they made it to Mako without causing any trouble. She greeted them quickly and threw the credits at Torian and a sheepish smile at Aqura while being swamped by colonists.

Aqura and Torian left her behind quickly, which Aqura thought was a bit of a shame. She'd revised her opinion of Torian back to something approaching respect and it would be interesting to see how he got along with Mako. Instead, she led the other Mando to a quiet corner where it looked like the crates might not be disturbed for a few seconds and sat down. He sat down on another crate across from her and waited.

"You're not good enough to pull off your plan alone."

He blinked, then glared at her. "Got a cha-"

"No, you don't," she interrupted, then raised a hand to quiet him. "Shut up. I'll kick your shebs all the way back to the arena, because you're going to get yourself killed chasing honour if you keep trying this plan. I saw how you work, I've figured out why you're doing it. I get it, I'm the same. The thing is, you can't beat him and I can't find him. You can't! You've been out here for, what, a week, planning how you're going to take him down, but I've seen how you deal with surprises. You're smart, you plan ahead, but you don't have enough experience for this."

She tapered off and lowered her hand, finally giving him the chance to speak. He just watched her for several seconds, eyes boring into her, picking apart everything she'd said. She saw him come up with a few arguments in his head, then shoot them down himself.

Finally, he said, "you're not Mando'a."

She surged out of her seat so fast she barely stopped her fist when he leaned back and raised his hands in surrender.

"Not born Mando'a," he amended quickly. "Sorry."

She sat back down and let out a breath through her nose. "No," she admitted after a second. "I was adopted into my clan when I was thirteen. How could you tell?"

"Don't speak like one," was all he said. He shrugged, like it didn't really matter to him, or maybe like he didn't think much of the deduction.

He was right, though. She clipped her sentences sometimes, dropped pronouns periodically, but it was nothing like some Mando'ade, who never seemed to get the hang of how much Basic liked to fill in blanks unnecessarily.

Aqura shrugged back and wondered if she should tell Torian the rest of the story, who her clan had been and why she was hunting Jicoln Cadera.

No, she decided. At best, it was a story for another time.

The Grand Champion planted her hands on her knees and stood.

"Tell you what," she said, "I'm going to go remember a few people. You stay here, think about how your plan's going to be different now that you've got a Grand Champion or two on your side, and when I get back, we'll talk about it."

Torian looked up at her, grim-looking and almost glaring. Then his lips quirked and he broke into a smile.

He gave her a nod and she gave him a wave and headed towards the base entrance.


	17. Taris 3

**Author's Note**

 _Apologies to the fan or two that this has. Life picked up drastically as of September of last year, and I've only just gotten some time to breath. Rest assured that updates will be more consistent for the foreseeable future._

* * *

"This is your plan?" Gault stared at Torian, horrified.

Torian nodded back, straight-faced as ever.

"It's a terrible plan."

Mako joined in with, "I don't know. Republic databases have serious Rakghoul activity around that area. I'll take any protection I can get."

"Right," Gault agreed. "Any protection. Except _that_."

Torian shrugged.

They were all right. It was a good plan, it was a disgusting plan, and it was the only one they had.

It turned out that Torian had tracked Jicoln Cadera to an underground hideaway that lay just beyond, and partially within, an ancient subway. An ancient subway filled with the centuries-old dead and rakghouls.

That meant they needed some way to get through or keep from getting swarmed. Lacking the resources to buy a hovertank, they had one option.

Which brought them here.

The four of them stood on a semi-reliable outcropping several stories above a rakghoul nest. A rakghoul nest so filled with the monsters that it felt like any moment they might notice and start swarming over each other to reach the hunters.

Aqura could just imagine their clawed hands and feet scratching over each others' bodies and grappling to the decayed and rusted metal, building a tower of flesh until-

The other three looked at her, and she realized she was scraping her knuckles along the jawline of her helmet. She dropped her hand and gave an exaggerated shrug that came out looking understated in her armour.

"You don't have to come, old man," she told him.

The old devaronian glared at her and grumbled something under his breath before raising his voice to complain, "I don't see why we couldn't have used the mess we made before meeting the kid."

"Too stale," Torian interjected, and nodded towards the bag beside Gault's leg. "Ready when you are."

Gault looked at Aqura, who nodded. Then, without any ado whatsoever, he upturned the bag over the edge of the building. Aqura stepped up to the edge right afterwards and Mako held out her hand.

"Wait for it."

Aqura watched the little spheres fall gracefully, floor by floor, towards the nest.

"Get ready…"

Aqura raised both her arms, fists closed to give her wrist rockets a proper angle.

Took a breath.

"Now!"

She launched two missiles down into the nest, into the center of the falling spheres. It was impossible to tell which hit the ground first, the missiles or the grenades. It didn't matter. They all exploded the same way.

And explode, they did. For an instant, shrapnel flew, and the wave of sound hit the hunters as Rakghouls were torn to bloody shreds all around the nest. They didn't even have time to scream - or maybe the deafening blast drowned it out - and then there was nothing but grey flesh and green entrails as far as the eye could see.

In the ringing silence that followed, a piece of debris fell off a crumbling building and into the nest. Aqura inserted the squelching sound herself as the thing sank into what might once have been a rakghoul's head.

They all traded looks, not wanting to be the first one to speak. Mako opened her mouth slightly, then closed it. Gault leaned over the edge to see the whole splattered nest. He gave Aqura a look that clearly asked why they didn't solve all their problems this easily.

Finally, Aqura had had enough. Without a word, she stepped off the edge with a graceful pirouette, launched her grappling line a section of supporting metal, and fell towards the nest. As the building blurred by, the real scope of the damage they'd caused stretched out around her. If it had looked incredible before, it only became unimaginable as she got closer.

She fired up her jetpack for the last couple of seconds of her descent and set down with barely a squelch. It was best not to think about what she was stepping in or why.

It took a few seconds to detach her grappling line and tie it to a surviving bar of metal.

"You can come down now," she called up.

She drew her blaster and looked around, waiting to see if any surviving rakghouls showed.

Torian slid down beside her. Then Mako followed.

A few more seconds passed, mostly filled with Torian trudging towards the nearest, bloodiest area in squelching, stoic silence and Mako stepping gingerly through it all to reach Aqura.

"Gault?"

"No," came the voice from above. "I've made up my mind. I'll cover you from up here. You kids have fun."

"This is the first planet where you've had any freedom to get off the ship," Aqura yelled back up. She'd throw her hands up in exasperation if she weren't busy being armed and ready. "Are you really going to spend it sitting around playing audience? If you don't come down here, you can't come on the rest of the hunt."

There was a snort loud enough to be heard from several stories. Perhaps that was just because it was only the sound of boots in blood and Mako's quiet moans of disgust that it was competing with.

"We both know Jicoln has at least three ways out of his little hideout. When you're all done playing in rakghoul guts, give me a call."

Aqura growled, but mostly because he was right.

At least they had somebody covering the high ground while they got ready. Gault was handy with that rifle of his.

Finally, she turned to the task at hand, holstering her blaster and kneeling down into a patch of green and grey rakghoul parts.

Mako made a long, squealing sound of disgust. "Not the hair, not the hair. And don't get it in my mouth!"

Torian's hands were covered in viscera, which he was thoroughly rubbing into Mako's back. Then, without anymore warning than, "it has to go into your hair," he suited action to word and ensured Mako would be spending the next month washing it.

A good time to be wearing a helmet, Aqura thought with a shudder. Still, a part of her couldn't resist at least one comment.

"Better close your mouth, Sparks, or you'll get rakghouls in it."

Mako glared at her as a trickle of blood trailed down her neck. With a pained growl, she said, "I'm not helping you clean your armour after this."

That was fair. It was going to make cleaning up after this the worst job in history, but it was fair.

Aqura scooped up a handful of rakghoul guts and smeared it across her shoulder. Then the other. Then her chest. And on and on until her suit was green and grey instead of gold.

"The… final touch?" she asked, looking to Torian.

He nodded and beckoned her closer. When she was properly standing with him, he took off his backpack. There was no setting it down, but he pulled out a container about the size of a helmet and looked between the pair of women.

"Hold your breath," he advised, then opened it.

Aqura winced as Torian and Mako's eyes started watering at the stench. Once more, she thanked her dear Aayha for the scent filters on her helmet. Those would need changing out again before the day was done, she was sure.

Torian smeared the grey, gooey paste on himself first, then turned to Mako, who whimpered and stepped forward.

"This is the worst thing I've ever done," she moaned as Torian rubbed the stuff into her sides. "Wouldn't it be kinder to just feed me to the rakghouls?"

That, Aqura didn't say anything about. Mako was doing this for her, in the end. Jicoln had nothing to do with Mako, no matter what the girl said. She could have done the same thing as Gault and stayed back, letting Aqura and Torian handle their personal vendetta. That loyalty meant a lot.

"We'll go to Alderaan after this," the hunter promised. She put a sticky hand on her sister's shoulder, which didn't exactly have the effect she wanted. With a grimace, she added, "I bet we can scare a couple nobles out of their castle and steal their baths."

Mako smiled, but it was forced. "Yeah. We'll… ugh." She shook her head and shuddered. She looked green. Honestly, so did Torian.

"Sorry," was all Torian said. "Necessary."

"Then do me and let's get this over with," Aqura said, beckoning for the container.

Minutes later, they were all thoroughly covered in rakghoul blood, viscera, waste, and week-old corpse paste.

There were times when the life of a hunter was anything but glamorous.

"I'll see you at the outpost," Gault called down as the trio headed off without him. "Let me know if you knock Jicoln out with the smell."

* * *

Aqura instinctively sucked in her gut as she passed close enough to a rakghoul for it to rub off some of her… camouflage.

She watched the thing amble away with a patch of greenish grey on its shoulder. Then she shot a look at Mako.

Mako was alright. So was Torian. As Aqura cautiously pushed aside a piece of rubble and stepped over a magrail, she gave quiet thanks and another look around. She'd been looking around so intently that her neck was starting to ache.

The underground was crumbling, just like everything else on Taris. And, just like everything else on Taris, if it hadn't fallen apart yet, it probably wouldn't do it any time soon.

Which didn't make the rusting metal leaning halfway across the tunnel feel and less dangerous. There was something about things that were bigger around than a train looming over her that Aqura didn't like.

Everything down here was dark and grey, crumbling rock or rakghouls included. Except the puddles of green sludge that were so obviously dangerous that even the rakghouls steered clear of them. There were three close by and Aqura made a mental note to get both of her companions checked into a clinic once they got back to a semblance of civilization. The fumes off of them alone… not that anyone would notice, with what they were covered in.

She tried not to think about that, either.

Mako gave Aqura a wave, then pointed the direction they were headed.

Up ahead, the tunnel had collapsed and left only a thin crack in the rocks, barely big enough for a person to squeeze through. Which, unfortunately, meant that Torian and Aqura in their armour didn't have a way through.

Aqura stopped in front of it and Torian and Mako came up beside her.

All of them stepped back to let a massive red rakghoul go by.

They all exchanged a series of looks.

There wasn't much to work with in the tunnel. Even if there were, they didn't want to make a lot of noise and agitate the rakghouls.

Mako flexed an arm and pointed at Aqura, then at Torian, then at the rocks.

Torian shook his head and mimicked wipe his brow exaggeratedly.

They both looked at her.

Oh, good. Mako didn't have the muscle to move anything and Torian couldn't risk sweating off his anti-rakghoul coating. Which left Aqura to do all the literal heavy lifting.

She gave the both of them a silent glare and strode forward, keeping to the left side of the tunnel and away from a pair of resting rakghouls.

Light shone through the crack itself. It was almost perfect already, just too tight for about an arm's length. After that, it looked like it opened up enough to keep going without any trouble. Aqura just needed to pull out the right rocks not to have a cave-in.

She turned back to look at Mako and found Torian approaching the two sleeping raks. He moved slowly, quietly, and she tried to wave him away, but he was staring intently at the two little monsters and she didn't want to risk calling out.

Then he drew a blade and, completely silent, stepped up behind the first of the creatures.

The blade came down twice, into the base of the beast's skulls. Neither woke. Neither even bled very much. They simply died in their sleep.

Aqura's buir had done that sort of thing a few times when he was alive.

She traded a stunned look with Mako, then shook off her surprise and pointed to the rocks, then her helmet. Mako followed her directions, then nodded and took a few steps closer. The girl's eyes flickered and a rock highlighted on Aqura's helmet readout.

The huntress moved fast, pulling each designated rock out and placing on the ground with deft movements, trying not to make enough noise to draw rakghouls. Even so, rock after rock was pulled out and the cave-in didn't seem to get wider.

Aqura glanced back.

Four more rakghouls dead.

There were too many wandering by, checking on the noise she was making. There wasn't much choice, though. If she hurried, more would come. If she didn't, they'd wander by and still be dangerous. Especially with the smell of blood.

Then the highlighted rocks turned from gold to red.

Aqura looked around and saw a pack of raks coming towards them slowly. It wasn't the slowness of disinterest. It was the slowness of caution.

Osik.

Mako made a motion for Aqura to hurry and Torian drew his electrostaff.

Osik, osik, osik.

Aqura started grabbing rocks and throwing them down, reaching for each one faster and faster as Mako sped up the highlighting to keep up with her.

Then the highlighting stopped.

It took all her willpower not to look back. There was almost a way through. Mako could already get through. Aqura wanted to yell for Mako to run, but the girl wouldn't go without her. She was stupid like that.

Torian grunted behind her, a sound that mingled with the surprised squawks and aborted roars of the rakghouls.

Just a few more-

Mako yelled. That was going to attract more. What if there were rakghouls on the other side? What if they went through one by one and were torn apart as they left the little hole in the cavern?

That wasn't going to happen. She had enough armour. If she used her missiles, she could blast the hole bigger and shield Mako and Torian from the shrapnel.

She raised her arms and bent her wrists.

"Move!" Mako yelled, shoving her forward and almost triggering the missiles. Then Aqura's brain actually kicked in and she ducked her head and ran forward.

She barely avoided tumbling as they reached the slope outside the cavern. With a skip and a brief spin on her heel, Aqura got out of Mako's way, grabbed Torian and pulled him back, then launched a missile into the hole.

The shrapnel and rumble of falling rocks hadn't settled before Torian grunted, "move," and they were getting away from the chaos as fast as possible. With the necessity of not attracting any of the rakghouls coming to check on the noise, that wasn't very fast. Adding in the swampy hill and keeping close to each other, they practically crawled away as Rakghouls swarmed towards them.

Aqura held her breath. It didn't even make a difference, since her helmet was sealed. Still, it was instinct.

The rakghouls came in a swarming wave and Torian motioned to them to crouch. They did, though Aqura started sliding slowly down the hill.

Straight towards a swarm.

Not a problem, she thought. I have a jetpack. And the best beskar'gam on the planet. Not a problem. Not a problem.

As she slowly slid down, she breathed a sigh of relief. The swarm was passing and, because it was a stupid route, none of them were trying to climb the hill here. By the time she reached the bottom, they would all be gone.

Except for the one that stopped, watching her slide down the hill. The rest passed and Aqura slowly slid to the bottom until she was face-to-face with the monster.

It sniffed at her and started to growl.

"Ke nu'jurkadir sha Mando'ade," she muttered, and stabbed the thing in the throat with her vibroblade. The creature fell and Aqura stepped over its corpse.

Torian and Mako were still on the hill, pointing ahead where the tracks led to a tunnel big enough to house a rancor.

The thought made Aqura wonder how her little egg was doing, but the thought was quickly washed aside by a resignation. She couldn't climb the hill easily, which meant the next few hundred meters would have to be at the bottom of the hill, in recently-vacated rakghoul territory.

At least it was bright. Sort of. Ten or twenty shattered skyscrapers above them had enough holes in them to let in the light of the sun. That let them see all the rakghouls pass by, enough to turn the sickly-green ground to greenish-brown as they churned it up.

No more came close and Aqura made it to the end of the tracks and back up the hill safely.

She rejoined Mako and Torian with a quiet sigh of relief. She'd have given Mako a hug, but between the armour and the horrendous grey-green goop that was starting to crust Mako's clothes and face, it wasn't something either of them really wanted.

Mako looked around as they passed into the dark tunnels again.

"This is his hideout, isn't it?" she whispered.

Aqura shrugged.

"Yes."

Of course, Torian had the answer.

"Tracked signs of his movement," he said softly. "Can't be farther than this, haven't found it yet. It's here."

"Good," Aqura muttered, gesturing to a ramp heading off of the main path and down into the building. "There'd better be a back way out of there."

Torian nodded and led the way. "Move quiet. If he's here, don't want to scare him off. Not, then watch for traps."

Aqura took a second to parse the statements, then nodded. "Mako, keep a spark out?"

"Ha, ha." The slicer followed after Torian, protected from in front and behind. Then the girl stopped. "Hey, do you hear that?"

Torian shook his head, like he was trying to dislodge something.

"I don't hear anything," Aqura whispered. She nodded her head to the side to get the two to move to the side until they figured out whatever it was, but neither moved before Mako spoke.

Mako's eyes flickered and she gestured for them to keep heading down into the building. "What's wrong, Grand Champion?" she asked, grinning. "Too old to hear a high-frequency sonic… wow, that's annoying. Probably keeps the rakghouls away, though."

Torian nodded and walked slowly forward, hand out to keep them from passing him. His head turned one way, then the other, in a slow and methodical way that wasn't anything like how Aqura checked out rooms. And they weren't even in a room yet, just a long, wide ramp that kept going deeper down into Taris.

When they came to a small platform, Torian stopped. There were three ways to continue down and no way to tell-

"This way," Mako said, pointing down the rightmost ramp.

Aqura started heading that way but, as she should have expected, Torian hesitated.

"Why?"

Mako tapped her implant. "The sound's coming from that direction. Friendly warning, though: it's going to get louder. Depending how far down it is, maybe a lot louder."

Torian grunted discontentedly and Aqura smirked. Aw, poor kids.

Seeing Torian shake his head and wince, though, Aqura revised her opinion. She put one hand on her blaster pistol and kept the other one up and ready. Wouldn't it be shabla clever for an old survivor to protect his lair from rakghouls and young intruders at the same time?

Really young intruders, she revised, looking at her two… did Torian count as a friend? Anyway, her two hunting partners. If the sonics only distracted people as young as them, they couldn't be that useful. Unless there was another reason Aqura couldn't hear them.

"Hey," Aqura called to Mako. "I'm not that old. You sure this doesn't have something to do with that sonic blast you set off in my helmet back on Hutta?"

Mako looked back for a second, then away, but Aqura had already caught the guilty look.

"Which sonic…? Oh... No, prob- definitely not. Why do you ask?"

Aqura rolled her eyes. As if that wasn't confession enough. Not that it mattered. It was just a bit of hearing loss. She'd almost been crushed to death and, besides, now she could walk right through rakghoul alarms without blinking. Considering the way Mako was trying to cover both her ears with one hand, it seemed like the preferable option.

Crates started showing up, scattered on the sides of the ramp, out of the way of where anybody would normally walk. Most of the ones they found at first were large and there weren't many, but soon enough the crates started getting smaller and more numerous. Soon, they were lining the walls and narrowing the ramp, but even then the trio could have walked down the path with their arms outstretched and not touched fingertips.

For an cowardly survivalist's underground lair, this place was huge.

"We're not going to have to search this whole place, are we?" she whispered to the other two.

Both looked back, but Torian looked at Mako. That made sense, considering neither Mando had any idea where in the hideout Jicoln might be beyond probably being near all the supply crates.

Therefore, Mako was the one who had an answer.

"Almost there," she said confidently. "My - ow - implant says the source of the sonics aren't even a hundred meters away anymore."

Torian nodded and drew his blaster rifle. Aqura did the same with her pistol.

"You want to charge it?" Aqura asked.

"No. Traps."

That was fair. And, now she thought about it, it was considerate of Torian to take the lead. And brave. And probably stupid. If anybody should be in front, it should be Aqura. She was the one in full beskar'gam; Torian only had the chestplate and some leg armour.

"Tor."

He slowed and looked back at her like he'd just said something strange.

She grinned. He wasn't used to nicknames.

"Don't you think I should be risking the traps, big guy?"

The man just shook his head and stalked forward a little faster. "Better at spotting them."

Mako snorted. "By that logic, I should be in front." She tapped her implant.

"No, by that logic, we should go back and get Gault and put him in front," Aqura joked.

Mako turned and walked backwards for a couple of steps so she could raise her fist and clap the back of her hand against Aqura's. They both grinned at the idea of all the excuses Gault would make if he were volunteered for that kind of job.

Torian just got impatient at the display and hurried ahead. He didn't have to go far, though. At the end of the next ramp, in the middle of a couple of veritable mountains of who-knew-what, was a massive holoprojector. The path didn't technically end there, but even the other three looked like they led to this one spot. The central hub, of sorts.

"Well," Mako said brightly, "no prizes for figuring out what to do next."

Her eyes flickered and she waved a hand as if performing a Force trick. The lights on the holoterminal flashed and a man appeared above the projector.

Jicoln. It had to be. He didn't look as old as Aqura had expected. Maybe it was the blue tint or the lack of hair on his head, but he had a full and surprisingly well-kept beard that looked brown, from what Aqura could guess. Survivalist or not, the man hadn't let himself go to waste.

Nor had he skimped on his armour. It wasn't quite full plate, but it was definitely a lighter equivalent, with only a few gaps near his joints to give him all the mobility possible in that much armour.

The man crossed his arms and glared down at them.

"So, is Artus finally sending children to do his dirty work?"

"See?" Mako threw her hands up, as if presenting the man. "That's the real reason why we don't bring Gault anywhere. Can you imagine people asking what the babysitting fees cost?"

Jicoln grunted, something almost like a smile. Then his scowl deepened. "Go home now," he warned, "and tell "Mand'alor" that if he wants my head, he should come take it himself."

Aqura glanced at Torian, whose jaw was clenched so tight she wasn't sure he'd be physically able to speak if she asked.

The Grand Champion stepped forward instead. Standing right in front of the projector, she said, "we're not going anywhere, Jicoln. You owe my clan a blood debt."

"I don't know-"

"Mandokarla," Aqura yelled, slamming a fist to her chest. "A Grand Champion of the Great Hunt, and the one who's going to get my clan's name back when I kill you."

"Mandokarla?" Despite the incredulous tone of his voice, Jicoln looked pained. He looked around at Mako and Torian, seeming almost lost. "Is that what you children have come for? Orphans of my war with Artus, come to kill me to right his injustices?"

Mako looked at Aqura, then at Torian. Seeing the quietly seething hunter, though, Mako stepped and shot a wide-eyed look at Aqura.

Aqura gave her a nod back. "Two out of three," she whispered.

Torian heard, of course, even if Jicoln might not have. The glare he turned on the pair of them made even Aqura flinch, though he aimed it at Jicoln after only a brief glance at the women.

Jicoln didn't give Torian a chance to speak, though. The old man just raised a datapad to type into and said, "then, if you make it out alive, meet me at these coordinates for the Geroya be Haran."

Mako's eyes flickered and she asked, "hell ga-"

Then she cut off. Jicoln's image disappeared and Mako's eyes went wide.

"Oh, that son of a- Guys, we need a way out _now_."

Aqura didn't ask. It didn't matter. She looked around, went with her gut, and pushed Mako down the rightmost tunnel. Then she grabbed Torian by the arm and cut off whatever stupid question he was about to ask. Probably, "why?" Whatever it was, he didn't get the chance to say it as they ran down the hall, eyes peeled for anything that looked remotely like a way out of this lair.

"Osik," she swore after barely a hundred meters. "See anything?"

"No!" Mako yelled, all but sprinting beside her. Torian lagged along behind, running to keep up after Aqura had let go of him.

A chorus of unmistakable howls echoed down the tunnel.

"Osik," Aqura repeated.

"Three options," Mako yelled. "Smash the speakers, find the main terminal, or find the exit."

Oh, osik, that explained everything. The holoprojector had been a trap. Something to lure them to the middle of the base before the sonics changed and started attracting rakghouls instead of repelling them.

Three options. \

Too many speakers.

Two options.

"Tor!" Aqura snapped.

The man looked up at her as he vaulted a pair of crates to keep pace with them.

"See anything?"

He barely shook his head once before going back to scanning the tunnel.

They passed a side path and kept going straight.

The howls got louder. As fast as they were running, the raks were swarming in faster.

No, that wasn't right.

"Mako, left!"

They all turned left at the next intersection, but there was no way that would be enough. The rakghouls were swarming from multiple entrances.

On the bright side, multiple entrances proved there were multiple exits.

They just needed to find one that wasn't filled with rakghouls.

Next corner, next decision, in thirty meters.

Twenty.

Ten.

The howling crescendoed and, as one, the entire group looked right.

Rakghouls. Enough to fill the tunnel with and all howling for blood, scrabbling over crates and each other in the mad rush to get to whatever was causing the noise. The entire tunnel was covered in grey bodies. Grey bodies and claws and slavering jaws overfilled with a few too many teeth.

Aqura almost turned left, almost went with the prey instinct - run directly away from the predators, get away as fast as possible. She almost let her fear push her right back the direction they'd been running. Instead, as she started to turn, Torian passed her and grabbed her, dragging her along with him for a few steps before they both stumbled, caught their strides, and kept running.

"Forget the terminal!" she yelled over the howling. "Mirdala! Exit! Now!"

Torian just snarled, "keep running!"

No help, then.

"Could use a map, Sparks!"

"I don't have-"

"Where we've been!"

"Oh! Here."

A simple image, just lines with a dot on one end representing the entrance and a triangle on another end showing where they were, appeared on Aqura's faceplate. Concentrating on it for even long enough to decipher that much nearly sent her sprawling over a crate and Torian had to grab her and keep her from falling. Again.

Torian caught on to what they were doing, though. As he pulled Aqura back to running straight, he pulled out his holocomm and yelled, "map of Taris!"

Mako took a second to process the idea, then threw up a map on Torian's holoprojector. The lair superimposed on a map of Taris, complete with altitudes and landmarks. The map of the lair was better than what Aqura had inside her helmet, and it was in three dimensions. Even so, it was bouncing and waving as Torian ran, trying to focus on the crates and tunnels and-

"Rakghouls!"

They all turned right as the howls of rakghouls grew louder directly ahead of them.

The next turn was an obvious choice, an intersection where two of the paths hit obvious dead ends.

Then Torian pointed to one of them and yelled, "that way!"

For an instant, Aqura thought she'd misheard him over the echoing howls. When she caught Mako's wide-eyed look, though, she knew the man was just crazy.

"That's a dead end!"

"Exit," he grunted, and poured on speed to lead them into the last corridor in the lair.

Last, because either they got out now or they died here.

Aqura turned, grabbed the bottom crate in a large pile, and shoved with her hydraulics. The entire thing collapsed into a wall about chest height, but there were so many rakghouls there was no way it would slow them much.

There wasn't much space in this area. Torian and Mako were already moving crates, trying to find some sort of hatch or trap door, but if Tor was wrong-

Aqura drew her blaster and popped both her vibroblades.

Don't tell them to hurry, don't tell them to hurry, don't tell them to-

"Hurry, vode!"

Osik.

Aqura ignored the handful of curses Mako threw back at her and lined up her blaster.

The first rakghoul to come over the pile caught a blaster bolt in the mouth, which required nothing more than aiming above the shabla thing's shoulders. The snaggle-toothed jaw, open so wide the creature's eyes weren't even visible, fell back with a hole straight through the back of its head.

People. Humans, Sith, Twi'leks, whatever. They turned into those things.

Aqura shot the next three over the wall, then had to stab one that lunged at her from atop the crates. She threw it aside, then activated her flamethrower.

"Mako!" she yelled over the screams and roaring fire.

"We have to get it open!"

Osik. Thank all the ancestors that they'd found it, but osik.

Aqura started charging her cryospray and kept shooting. Two, then six, then eight rakghouls went down before the gauntlet charged and she almost flung the carbonite onto an entire wall covered in rakghouls. Arms and legs and faces froze solid, building up the wall for the split second that each rak was immobilized.

Then something massive, red, and made of teeth and claws crashed through the crates.

"Mako!"

"What the-"

Aqura didn't hear the next words over the monster's roar, and then it was on top of her, slamming her to the ground because she wouldn't get out of the way when Mako was behind her. But there were others. She had to kill the creature fast and stop the others.

She pulled the trigger on her gun and the monster shrugged it off. Her left arm wouldn't move, which meant no railgun. Not yet. With an override on her hydraulics and her jetpack, she should be able to get some space.

The monster's saliva dripped onto her visor, blurring her vision and somehow doing nothing to hide the fact that a mouth bigger than her head was coming down for her face. She could see down the monster's throat already.

No time.

She bent her wrist to expose her right arm's last micromissile. It might kill her at this range, but better that than eaten by a rak.

Then the monster was thrown off her so suddenly that Aqura almost killed Torian as he moved between her and the rakghoul swarm.

Well, between was a strong word. It was all around them now, grey flesh and clattering claws everywhere.

Aqura moved as fast as she could, putting a railshot through the red one's throat before she ignited her jetpack to get back to her feet in an instant. Then she was back to back with Torian, blades flashing and electrostaff sparking off broken skulls. But they were everywhere. Where was-

Mako screamed.

Aqura crossed the room with the speed of somebody who had a jetpack and no intention of stopping. She slammed into the rakghoul atop her sister so hard she heard its bones shatter.

Mako lay there, curled up into a ball and still screaming. The hatch was above her head, on the wall, still unopened.

Aqura cut through a rakghoul's throat, then sliced open the hatch in the same motion. She picked up Mako in one hydraulic-enhanced arm, filled the area behind her with fire, and kicked open the escape hatch. Then she threw Mako in.

The girl was terrified, but even then she had good instincts. She started climbing the ladder on the other side as fast as possible. Which was good, except-

Aqura grabbed the arm of a rakghoul that leapt for her throat, then spun and slammed it down into another that was gnawing at her shinplate.

Osik, they were everywhere. Where was Torian?!

Aqura launched herself up into the air, fired a missile straight down to clear herself some room, then oriented on Torian, who'd backed up against a wall and was holding off three rakghouls as best he could. He was pushing two of them away with his staff even as he kicked the other in the face, but the swarm was filling the area, pushing him in with mass alone.

Please let my aim be good, Aqura thought. Then she launched her grapple. It latched onto Torian's chestplate and she pulled him up, into the air. She had enough time to register the shock on his face before he came down in a tumbling roll where she'd just cleared them some space.

She dropped atop him, yelled, "GO!" and kept fighting.

Another railshot went through at least ten of the monsters, then she tore out two throats and sliced off an arm with her vibroblades. Blasterfire turned a few more into smoking corpses, but all she was doing was keeping them from pulling her down and cracking open her casing.

Then there was a roar loud enough to make her teeth chatter and the rakghouls all went stilled.

The pitiful wall of crates was pushed aside by a pitch-black rakghoul as wide as a speeder and tall as the tunnel itself.

This one didn't have eyes, either. What was it with these monsters and leaving eyes optional?

The monster looked down at her and roared again.

Too big to fight. Too big to stop.

Too big to fit through the escape hatch.

Aqura grinned and leapt backwards through the hatch, then ignited her jetpack.

After all, a woman didn't need ladders if she had sufficient disregard for her own safety.

She reached the top of the ladder with only a light crash against the roof, then collapsed against the floor of the final tunnel.

Hands grabbed her arms and pulled her through the tunnel and towards the light of day.

"I'm fine," the huntress mumbled, blinking until she could see straight.

It took until she was dragged into the sunlight before Aqura managed to get to her feet again.

The first thing she did was fire a missile into the tunnel, slam the tunnel's hatch shut behind her, and collapse with her back against it as the tunnel started to collapse.

"Let's," she said with a deep sigh, "never do that again."

Her hand came up with her holocommunicator as she scanned the surroundings. Time to call Gault. At least if he wasn't going to come with them, he could pick them up.

"Sis," said a quiet, broken voice.

Aqura focused on Mako, who was sitting on the grass, being tended to by Torian. The armoured woman surged to her feet and stalked forward.

Torian shifted out of the way, holding up Mako's arm as he applied kolto to it.

Mako looked up at Aqura, tears in her eyes.

Gault answered the holo.

"Hey, kids. You made it! Looking for a ride?"

Aqura didn't respond. She couldn't even think of what to say.

On Mako's arm was an unmistakable mark, a wide and uneven row of bloody holes, somehow already festering.

A rakghoul bite.


	18. Taris 4

"Hurry, Gault!"

"I have to slow down to-"

Aqura ignored him as the speeder swerved to a stop in front of of her and she hauled Mako into it.

"I can still wa- woah!"

Then she threw herself into the back, reached out a hand to Torian, and yelled, "go!"

Gault hit the accelerator before Torian was fully in the speeder and he fell atop Aqura, but that didn't matter. She pushed him off and leaned forward in the seat to yell at Gault.

"How far to the nearest outpost?!"

"About ten kilometers," Gault called back. "Strap in!"

Aqura sat back and harnessed herself in just in time for Gault to double their speed.

Osik. This was her fault. Her and that underhanded hut'uun Cadera. She was going to kill him. She was going to save Mako, then hunt down Cadera and physically destroy everything that tied him to the world in the Geroya be Haran.

First they needed a way to save Mako. There was a way, wasn't there? A disease like that couldn't possibly exist and not have hundreds of people, thousands, working on a cure.

Aqura reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes, but her gauntlet just hit her helmet with a resounding _klung_.

She slammed her fist against the edge of the speeder in frustration, which only made Mako turn to look at her. Tor was already watching. She looked back at both of them silently.

Kolto wouldn't work. They'd already established that. It was only a matter of time. The worst part was that, when she'd asked how much time, Torian hadn't known.

Aqura's mind went in circles for minutes that felt like years, until the sound of the wind suddenly lessened, and the engine with it. Her head snapped up and she looked around to see a barricade wall flash by, then people scattering out of the way.

The speeder came to a roaring halt outside the base's medical building and Aqura used to momentum to jump up out of the vehicle. She hit the ground running and made straight for the med building's door. As she caught the door frame to slow herself down, she yelled back, "bring her in!"

Mako's yell, something about not being carried, cut off as the automatic doors closed behind Aqura.

The signs were irrelevant. The huntress followed the line of people to the front of the reception area and stopped with her hands braced against the receptionist's desk.

The man shrieked at the sight of a fully-armoured Mandalorian in front of him.

"Baar'ur! Iviin'yc!"

"Udesii," came a voice beside her.

She turned to see a small man, not much older than herself, wearing a white coat. He was glaring at her with hard emerald eyes.

"That's the only word of Mandalorian I know that isn't profane. Udesii. What do-"

"My sister needs a doctor. Now." Aqura turned away as she said the words, looking back past the line of potential patients to see Mako, Gault, and Torian walking towards her.

"So does everybody else here," the doctor said, crossing his arms. "We'll have everybody triaged in a few minutes…"

He trailed off, eyes moving from Aqura's family and friend to look down at her hip.

Aqura pulled her hand away from her gun guiltily. A part of her mind still whispered that Mako could get treatment before everybody else of everybody else was dead, or even if the doctor just thought Aqura might kill everyone. She pushed away the thought.

Gault came to her rescue.

"Afternoon, gentlemen. Ladies." He strode into the room with a disarming smile and arms held out, palms up. "Sorry about our colleague's behaviour. We're just worried about our friend's rakghoul bite."

He held up Mako's arm to show the bandaged wound there.

The patients and nurses gasped or stepped away, whispering fearfully. Mako paled and Aqura stepped forward to… something, if only it would help. Gault spoke first instead.

"We don't want any trouble," he said in that way that implied that, if trouble were to happen, he would obviously be perfectly innocent. "But Mako here just finished winning the Great Hunt with our Mandalorian friend." He inclined his head towards Aqura. "The Grand Champion would like to ask a few questions."

Gault turned slowly, grinning amiably at each person in the building. "I'm sure you can understand."

Everybody nodded except for the doctor, who stood his ground, though uncertainly.

Aqura rounded on him, her armour letting her loom over the man.

"Mandokarla."

She hesitated at Torian's voice, then turned around.

Torian didn't say any more, however. He just stood partway between Aqura and her friends and looked from Aqura back to Mako.

Mako met Aqura's eyes. Sad. And afraid. Sparks looked around at the injured people who were as scared of her wounds as they were of the armoured Mandalorian in their midst. She didn't want them hurt or terrified for her sake.

Aqura deflated.

These people hadn't done anything wrong. They were just in the way.

"Osik," she breathed. Reluctantly, she started towards her family.

"Wait," said the doctor.

Aqura turned back, holding back her hope with an effort of will.

"No doctor can help you," he said sadly. "But… Lorii?"

A woman Mako's age peeked up from behind the counter fearfully.

"Go with them," the doctor told her. "Tell them everything you know."

"Sir-" the girl said in a high-pitched voice.

"Get them out of my med service," the man cut her off.

Lorii stood, which only brought her shoulders above the counter, and reluctantly came around to stand in front of Aqura.

"Now get out," the doctor commanded, arms crossed and glaring directly at Aqura.

A part of the Mandalorian wanted to shoot the man for his attitude, but that was just the anger talking. She turned away and joined the others with Lorii in tow.

As soon as they were outside the building, Aqura rounded on Lorii, who was so small that even Mako towered over her. That made it very hard to feel justified looming over her.

"Aqura," Mako said softly, putting a hand Aqura's shoulder. Then the young slicer looked at Lorii and asked, "what's going to happen to me? Can we stop it?"

Lorii bit her lip and shook her head tearfully. "No."

Mako's hand tightened on Aqura's shoulder and Lorii flinched away.

"How long do I have?" Mako asked in a voice that was far too calm.

"I don't know," Lorii murmured. "It's different for everybody. There's patterns; a bigger wound can take a soldier within a day, somebody weak like…"

She broke off, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm not weak," Mako insisted, and both Gault and Aqura nodded agreement.

"No," Lorii said weakly. "I just… my daughter was turned by the virus, too. It didn't even take an hour. But… but I've seen people I thought wouldn't last half a day survive for almost a week. We don't know what makes the difference. Nobody does."

"What can we do?" Aqura asked, voice hard.

Lorii shook her head. "Nothing. The only thing you can do is plan for the change and make the best of every moment. I can contact a quarantine unit, if you want?"

There was a moment of silence as everybody processed the news.

Then Mako said, "to the hells with that."

Everybody turned to her. The slicer shoved Aqura's shoulder and said, "stop carrying me around. I can take care of myself." Then she pointed a finger at Lorii and said, "I want every rumour and drunk's story you've heard about a cure for this. Don't think I won't find them myself, either - I've got some very scary charts and diagrams downloaded already, and I'll check through a lot more if I have to."

Torian nodded. "Need a plan," he said simply.

Gault shrugged and pulled out his datapad. "It's as good an idea as any. Put the details on here, kid; I'll at least sort out the trash."

Mako smiled at Gault, but Lorii stared at them all, aghast.

"What good could that do?" the little woman asked.

Mako looked her right in the eye. "I can feel this stuff eating at me," she growled. "I survived growing up on Nar Shadaa. I'm a Grand Champion of the Great Hunt. When this is over, I'll have a family name for the first time in my life. I am not going to die without kicking and screaming the whole way. Got it? Now tell me everything you can think of."

Lorii nodded fearfully and Aqura bit back a sob.

"What… can I do?" Aqura asked, lost.

Mako gave her sister a smile that was weaker than the words she'd spoken. She reached out and asked, "hold my hand?"

Aqura took her sister's hand without question and waited as patiently as possible while Lorii told stories of old legends, con artists, and secret government programs.

As Lorii spoke, Torian moved to stand beside Aqura and whispered to her snippets of plans that she helped to fine-tune until, almost inevitably, Gault shot down one lead after another.

After almost an hour and several repetitions of the most prominent or promising stories, they'd finally narrowed it down to three options.

"One ancient legend, one Republic project, and one Imperial conspiracy," Gault listed with a sigh, dropping his datapad into his lap.

They all sat in a circle, tired and a little frustrated from sifting through so many stories.

Lorii shifted uncomfortably, looking back at the medical building's entrance.

Mako nodded. "Go ahead, Lorii. Thanks for everything."

Lorii stood and scampered away, leaving the four of them to slowly stand up and consider their options.

"What do you think?" Gault asked Mako.

"Just the three?"

Gault nodded.

Mako's eyes flickered for a few seconds, then she said, "the legend is probably legitimate. There are tags about it in Republic and Imperial databases. Maybe with some digging, we could find out if there are any samples. Only… that might require some actual digging."

Aqura shook her head. "Even if we had the time for archaeology, Lorii said the rakghouls are most concentrated in the old underworlder areas. If we try that, I go alone."

The other three traded a stubborn look and Mako went back to her research. Eventually, she said, "there's nothing on an Imperial search for a cure, even checking a few promising leads."

Aqura raised an eyebrow. "That one, then. There's no way the Empire isn't working on something; finding nothing at all is practically proof that it's promising."

Gault shook his head. "Everybody knows that," he agreed, "which is why it's a warning. We'd be less likely to get killed by the rakghouls in the undercity than the Empire if we go after this. Clean up after yourself, Sparks, then let's check the Republic. Hopefully we don't get any Imperial agents breathing down our necks soon."

"If they have the cure," Aqura growled, "we can bargain with them or kill them for it."

"You're not going to fight the entire Empire for me," Mako said with an exasperated smile.

Aqura crossed her arms, thinking she'd like to see anybody try to stop her.

"Maybe the Republic has better chances," Mako said pensively. Her eyes began to flicker. "Well, there are heavily-publicized projects going back to before the first reclamation efforts on Taris. Excavation and archaeology, oh… a few very, very bad rakghoul studies… what part of nightmare plague was hard to underst-… wait a second, I think I've got something."

"What?!"

It was Aqura who spoke up, but she, Gault, and Torian all perked up at Mako's hopeful declaration.

Mako nodded slowly, brow furrowed in concentration. "Doctor Ianna Cel was working on a cure with- Azeel?!"

Gault and Aqura both squawked in surprise, but then Mako shook her head. "No, wait. Jedi Master Embry Azeel."

"You think she's related?" Aqura asked.

Mako shrugged and smiled weakly. "I don't know. I could check later, but…"

Aqura nodded and Mako's eyes started flickering again.

"Aqura…" she breathed.

That sounded hopeful. Almost disbelievingly hopeful.

"Sparks?"

"... I think we should get to Republic Waypoint Station Aurek. Uh… the "Tower Outpost Objective"? That can't be good."

Gault waved his hand in a circle as if to gather everyone up, then jogged to the driver's seat of his speeder. "Good enough for me. Everyone in. Details on the way, kid."

There was a small sense of hope that cut through even the graveyard atmosphere of the planet as they climbed into the speeder and it took off with a roar. Mako was still researching,Gault was concentrating, and Torian was silent, but what had moments ago been a nightmare now at least seemed like something they could fight. It was hard not to feel grateful for that.

So why did Torian keep looking out into the ruins like he was worrying about something distant instead of something right in front of them?

Aqura leaned over in the back seat until her helmet was nearly touching Torian's head, then she called over the wind and engine, "what's wrong, Tor?"

The man just shook his head, which wasn't helpful in any way, so Aqura stayed, leaning so close that any bump was likely to give the other Mandalorian a painfully close look at her helmet.

"Jicoln," he finally called back.

That sent a cold thrill through Aqura. As determined as she was to kill the man, it hadn't occurred to her that this, running off to get Mako a cure, was exactly what he would have wanted. Officially, the Geroya be Haran had started as soon as they'd escaped Jicoln's nightmare hideout, and now Jicoln… what would Jicoln be doing? A man like that wouldn't be preparing his traps. He'd already have them set up months in advance and checked as recently as a few weeks ago.

What would a man like Jicoln do with bought time?

Maybe he'd do what the look on Torian's face said he suspected - observe his newest adversaries.

Suddenly Aqura was watching the ruins, too, and with the exact same expression of worry that Torian had.

"Guys," Mako said into their commlinks, "I've got really good news and really bad news. The good news is that Doctor Cel had a full-blown working vaccine for the rakghoul plague. The bad news is that the base she was working out of is under attack by the Empire… right now."

"Osik."

Mako turned from the front seat and nodded in agreement. In the speeder's mirror, Gault was looking grim.

"Gault…" Aqura asked hesitantly.

They didn't have a choice about heading to the outpost and Gault wasn't slowing down, but this was exactly the sort of situation Gault had told them over and over again not to get into, because he wouldn't bail them out. Now it looked like they were going to be forced to go in without any plan at all.

"Kid," Gault said back.

Aqura waited for what he'd say with bated breath.

"This is a really, really bad idea."

The sound of heavy cannon fire thumped through Aqura's chest. She grinned.

"That's my specialty," she called back. Then she turned to Torian.

He was already holding up a holomap with a route into the base marked out. She tilted her head and he shrugged, revealing nothing.

With a flurry of movement, they copied the map to Aqura's holocommunicator and passed it forward to Mako so she could navigate for Gault.

The map updated a moment later with a dot and "Cel", then started filling with Imperial sigils on one side of the base. The attacking force.

Gault gunned the engines and made a wide path around the battleground so they could approach from the Republic side of the outpost, where Torian's path started. Torian leaned forward and started talking to Mako, fast. Hopefully planning.

Aqura took a deep breath and let it out as the speeder came to a stop.

"Gault, Mako, keep the engine running." She leapt out and waved a hand to Torian. "Tor, with me."

He followed her at a dead sprint towards the back line of the Republic defense, until eventually he caught up and she let him take the lead. It was his route, anyway, and they were definitely going to be mistaken for Imperial infiltrators.

She snorted at that thought. An Imperial infiltrator in white and gold armour.

Torian led the way under and through a series of ruins and overgrown trees until they reached the area surrounding the tower that was cleared of debris. Mostly cleared. Two Republic APCs and a speeder lay amongst the cratered field, smoking and gutted..

"Have to make it to the wall, then up," he said, pointing to the peak of a sheer slab of duracrete that made this side of the tower almost unassailable. "I have a plan."

"Should be easy." Aqura stood and stepped forward.

Torian hissed and dragged her back into the ruins as another transport walked out from behind the wall and made a dash for the deeper Republic lines.

The air filled with noise and smoke as artillery rained down for a solid minute. When the smoke cleared, the armoured personnel carrier was on its side, gutted and blackened.

After ten very quick heartbeats, Aqura spoke.

"We should go now."

Torian glanced to her, then to the transports and craters across the field.

Now was the best time. As much as instinct screamed against it, the Empire would focus its weapons on the battlefield now that they'd dealt with the people fleeing. This was the safest time to cross.

Both Mandalorians nodded, turned, and ran.

The ground flew by and Aqura leapt over crater after crater with the help of her jetpack while Torian followed, using his techstaff to vault over the few craters in his path.

They must have taken whoever was watching by surprise, because by the time they heard the artillery whistling overhead, they'd already reached the wall. Aqura reached out and took Torian's hand. They clasped each other's wrists and she fired her grapple up to the peak of the wall.

The planet rumbled below them as they ascended, skipping off the sheer metal surface that was once a starship's hull. The durasteel rang and Aqura yelled in primal defiance of everything that had happened that day. She flared her jets, hauled on her grapple, and the pair of Mandalorians flew over the wall into the so-called tower itself.

Aqura slammed into the ground loudly, sticking the landing and raising her hands as Torian rolled and came to his feet.

Four Republic soldiers and an officer stared at them in horror and Aqura spread her hands wide.

"This isn't what it looks-" All five drew blasters. "... like…"

She really didn't want to have to kill them. It just seemed unfair and, when the entire base noticed the shooting and dead bodies, it would make finding Ianna Cel much harder.

The Republic officer opened her mouth to speak, but Torian put out a hand in front of Aqura and interrupted.

"We're here to get Doctor Ianna Cel and any other critical personnel out of the combat zone," he said in the most complete sentence Aqura had heard from him yet.

The officer turned her weapon on Torian and two of her soldiers followed suit. "What do you know about Doctor Ianna Cel?" the woman asked suspiciously.

Torian raised his hands and Aqura did her best to look unthreatening as the tower shook and blaster fire and yelling came from the Imperial side of the outpost.

"Best chance of a plague cure," Torian said, seemingly unconcerned. "Worked with Master Azeel to get a prototype. Needs to get to safety - her and anyone else we can."

"You're Mandalorian," the officer spat, then gestured to Aqura. "And if you're not, he definitely is. Why should we believe you're on our side?"

Torian scowled as if he had a bad taste in his mouth, then growled, "mercenaries."

There was a moment of silence, then the officer snarled and put away her blaster. "Stars. Better odds getting people out with your help than without, even if you're Imperial. What's your plan?"

Torian held up his holocom and projected a shockingly detailed map of the local area, including the positions of both the Republic and Imperial forces, as well as a finely-drawn line leading out of the tower and towards Republic territory.

"Osik, Mako," Aqura breathed. Torian must have heard her, because he nodded in agreement.

"Got a distraction ready," Torian explained. "Risky. Not much time and no comms. Pick who gets out and move."

Another second passed as the officer inspected the image, then nodded. "Follow me," she said, then turned and jogged across the tower.

Torian and Aqura followed without a word, then the four soldiers followed behind them. It was a little nerve-wracking, but the only choice was to pretend it was perfectly normal to be followed by four armed soldiers who definitely didn't trust them. Otherwise they'd definitely get shot.

Then Mako would never get her cure.

As they ran, soldiers turned to look at them, but they didn't have any time to pay attention. Every available body was either collecting ammunition or information or, for the vast majority, manning the walls. Soldiers were lined up against the wall, firing down at the oncoming Imperial army. There were already bodies in various stages of burning or dismemberment being dragged away from the firing line, with more being treated barely meters back from the wall. Even with the battle droids providing extra cover, the Republic soldiers were staggeringly outnumbered.

Aqura tried not to curse or offer her help. Technically, the Imperials had the closest thing to her loyalty any nation got. The Mandalorians were on their side. That was something she was going to have to accept when this was over.

Still, maybe one missile couldn't hurt…

"Mandokarla!"

Aqura skidded to a halt in front of a human man in armour, a Sullustan civilian, a pair of twi'lek and zabrak men wearing lab coats and holding hands, and Doctor Ianna Cel.

The Mandalorian woman glanced from them to the officer and asked, "these are the ones you want out?"

"Mandalorians!" the Sullustan cried. "Viqui, are you nuts? You're just going to hand us over to the Imperials, now?"

The officer, Viqui, cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand. "We don't have anybody to spare to get you out, Garthe. No arguments." She looked to Torian and gestured to the four civilians. "Take them and Lieutenant Karlsu and get out of here."

The tower shook, then a red beam tore through three riflemen on the wall and a portion of the tower itself.

Karlsu, a bald man who looked like he knew his business, saluted and turned to Torian.

"That would be alright," Aqura spoke up, "but that's four civilians. Are you telling me you planned to get seven people out of here safely? We came for Doctor Cel."

"Oh, so that's how it-"

Lieutenant Karlsu held up a hand to silence the sullustan man, but it was Torian who spoke. His voice was soft as it could be over the rumbling and blaster fire.

"I thought you were the best," he said simply.

"It's not about being the best!" Aqura snapped, throwing a hand out to wave at the four. "The Lieutenant's the only one with armour and I'm not risking Mako for a few aruetii!"

Torian's expression hardened. "Gave my word. Mako agreed to the plan. Going to tell your sister you left innocents to die for her?"

Aqura's fist stopped a few millimeters from Torian's face. She held it there, shaking, as she met Torian's glare.

It wouldn't have been hard. Just punch him, leave him, shoot the soldiers and leave with the doctor. Osik, they could have just made a deal with the Empire for all this. Why-

She dropped her fist, defeated.

Mako. Obviously. The girl had a thing about bullies, and normally Aqura agreed, but this… this wasn't any different, was it?

"OSIK!" Aqura yelled. "Fine! We'll get them all out. But I swear, if this goes sideways, it's on you. Nothing is more important than that cure, do you understand?"

Torian nodded silently and Aqura finally let herself notice everyone else again. None of them looked happy. Doctor Cel looked scared, the other three civilians looked either scared or angry, and Karlsu and Viqui were worried.

As if he hadn't been interrupted, Torian turned and said, "follow." Then he hurried to the northwest edge of the tower and waited. When Aqura caught up with the civilians and lieutenant alongside, he made a casual gesture to the edge.

"This isn't a good idea," Lieutenant Karlsu said, looking down. "There's no cover, and the rakghouls to the north-"

Aqura ignored him, grabbed the nearest scientist, the zabrak man, and leapt off the edge. Her grapple came out as she did, hooking on the edge and slowing their fall so she barely had to use her jetpack as their feet touched down. The entire motion was so smooth he didn't seem to realize what had happened until she was already back on her way up.

Karlsu hadn't had time to react, either, and he stared as Aqura came back up and landed beside the sullustan. She grabbed that one, too, and pulled him easily towards the edge, though he struggled until she growled, "ke'ne'nari!" He didn't understand, but the meaning was pretty obvious.

Torian tapped her shoulder as she reached the edge. "Pause at the bottom," he said simply.

She nodded, dropped, and let go of the sullustan, who was keeping up some sort of commentary the entire time.

There was a tug on her grapple line and she looked up to see Torian sliding down it. He leapt off before he could hit her, landed upright and already reaching for his rifle, and nodded to her.

She went back up again and, in a couple of minutes, they had the rest of the group down. Ianna Cel came last.

Torian didn't give them any time to catch their breath. He pointed them to the northwest, to a wall on that side of the tower, and started marching.

"There's no cover this way," Karlsu hissed, walking up beside Torian. "It's a dead end, a wall to keep out the rakghouls."

Torian shook his head and pulled an explosive charge out of one of his satchels.

"Not a wall," he said over the sound of shaking metal. When he reached the great slab, he reached up with a fist and knocked. Then he moved over a meter and knocked again.

"What's he doing?" Doctor Cel asked fearfully.

"Checking for hollow points, probably," Aqura guessed. She looked around, back at the short open area behind them and at the tower, which was looking less steady with every minute.

"Probably?" asked the twi'lek man. "Don't you know?"

Aqura gave an exaggerated shrug that was barely visible with her armour on. "I didn't make the plan. Tor and Sparks came up with it on the way here."

"And they didn't tell you?!" the twi'lek asked.

"Odus," the zabrak chided, "don't worry. It'll be fine."

Aqura nodded absently, watching the areas above, trees and ruins and the shaking tower, for anything worrying. "Not much time to talk between finding out the tower was under attack and getting here. Now shut up and-"

"Got it," Torian called. "Everyone stand back."

Aqura formed up with Lieutenant Karlsu and the four civilians huddled behind them while Torian set the charge. Seconds later, it detonated and blew a hole just large enough for somebody to get through if they crouched. Except it wasn't bright on the other side. The hole led into a tunnel of some sort.

Torian beckoned to them, then ducked into the tunnel.

"Go," Aqura ordered. She turned to Karlsu. "You want the back? I'm best armoured, but I understand if you don't want a Mando behind you."

Karlsu gave her a strange look. "Things have been moving a little fast for me," he admitted. "I'd be… more comfortable if you took the middle."

She tried not to let that sting. She had, after all, had an argument about leaving people behind right in front of the man. It was hard to feel guilty about that, since she was still afraid they'd made the wrong decision, but she was anticipating how guilty she would feel if Mako - when Mako was safe after all of this.

She ended up between the twi'lek man, Odus, in front of her and the zabrak man behind.

Aqura wished she knew where they were going, exactly. It didn't seriously matter, since she'd kill everything that got in her way between here and the other side of Taris if she needed to, but it would still be nice to know. To have some idea of how soon she could get back to… to watching other people help Mako.

The Mandalorian grit her teeth at that thought. It didn't matter who was helping Mako, as long as she was cured. It was just hard feeling so helpless.

How was Mako now? How long did she have? How long had they been away? It had been a few hours since Mako was bitten. What if she didn't recover? What if the cure didn't work on people who were too far gone?

"H-hello? Excuse me?"

Aqura turned back at the zabrak's voice and was almost grateful for the distraction.

"What?"

The zabrak flinched, then took a breath and said, "my name is Mekur. I was just… would you really have left us to the Empire?"

"They could still be taking us to the Empire," Odus called back. "Even if they aren't, who says the Empire doesn't just pay them to hand us over before we get to safety?"

Aqura checked ahead of them, making sure Torian hadn't heard, then shook her head. "Don't let Tor hear you say that. I get the feeling he wouldn't like somebody accusing him of being an oathbreaker."

"And you?" Odus asked suspiciously.

"I'd have left you to die," she answered simply.

Both men flinched.

"But I won't," she continued. "I gave my word, too, and now you've got the best bounty hunter in the galaxy giving you a one-time guarded tour across Taris. I'll keep you alive."

"But… you said you didn't know the plan," Mekur said.

Aqura shrugged. "Never needed to. I tend to make things up as I…"

She trailed off, realizing that that exact attitude had been what put Mako in so much danger in the first place. If they'd spent more time watching Jicoln Cadera's lair before going in, or if they'd just been more cautious or had a plan for how to search the place, maybe they would have had an exit that didn't require holding off a pack of rakghouls to escape.

"You'll be fine," she said, and her voice synthesizer mercifully stole the tremble from her words.

From ahead, Torian cursed.

"Tor?" Aqura called. "What's wrong?"

"Shh."

Garthe and Odus pushed themselves to the side of the tunnel and Torian beckoned for the Aqura to come forward. She squeezed by, with much grumbled complaining from the sullustan, then followed Torian towards daylight. She didn't dare speak until they reached the tunnel exit and Torian stood aside to let her see the world outside.

"Osik," she breathed.

It was always more rakghouls. This time, they were a scant few hundred meters away from the tunnel exit, snapping at each other, agitated, probably by the battle the group had just left.

"Might be able to make it," Torian said.

Aqura almost asked to see the map, then figured the light would attract raks. Then she almost stepped out to look around, and realized the wind would blow her scent right towards the swarm.

Finally, she just asked, "what's the plan?"

"Plan was to follow the…" Torian trailed off as Lieutenant Karlsu joined them, then continued, "follow the wall west until we reach Republic territory, then south to the resettlement base. Thought the Mando'ade patrols had cleared out the rakghouls here."

"Doesn't matter now," Karlsu muttered darkly. "We have to go back. No Jedi Master to save us this time."

Aqura almost asked about that, but something else occurred to her as she looked out at the rakghoul-filled swamp.

"What about going up?" she asked.

Torian glanced at her, then up. "Can't make it far atop the walls. Could get us out of jamming range."

"Good enough for me," Aqura decided.

"What are we doing?" Karlsu asked.

"We're going to lift everybody to the top of the wall and go from there," Aqura said. She inched her way towards the tunnel exit and beckoned to the others. "Move fast. They'll catch our scent or spot us soon."

The civilians came forward slowly, but Lieutenant Karlsu lined them up, then handed Ianna Cel a rope. "Get this tied to the most secure thing you find up there, understand? Uh…"

He turned to Aqura and the look of confusion on his face made it pretty obvious he didn't know what to say. That was fine. Aqura ignored him, grabbed the doctor, and fired her grapple up the wall. For the second time that day, she scaled a wall with somebody else in tow. This time, however, the wall had nowhere near as secure footing as before. Aqura almost stumbled and had to catch Ianna before she could fall off the opposite side of the wall.

"That," she said, heart in her throat, "was not good. Tie the line and I'll bring up the next one."

Ianna nodded and opened her mouth to say something, but Aqura leapt back off the wall before she could hear whatever it was. When she hit the ground, she sunk in more than she'd have liked, then froze instinctively, hoping the Rakghouls hadn't heard or seen.

They were still squabbling amongst themselves. None had seen.

Still, no time to waste. Aqura reached out, grabbed Mekur, and pulled herself up again. She dropped him off, fell down again, and turned to grab Odus.

There was a sound so loud and sudden she didn't even process it, and Aqura was slammed back into the wall. She fell over, held up only by her grapple line.

"Mandokarla!"

"Where'd that come from? I don't have a target!"

"The rakghouls!"

Aqura's radio crackled and a staticky voice filled her helmet.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, child, but let that be a warning," said the voice of Jicoln Cadera. "I could kill you at any time. Leave Taris. Save yourself and your friends before you get hurt."

"You already hurt my sister, hut'uun!" Aqura screamed. But the static was already gone.

Aqura pulled herself to her feet to see rakghouls swarming from as far as the eye could see.

She reached up, sliced her grapple line with a vibroblade, and pulled Garthe to the line.

"They're sentient," he said as he took the line. "Don't kill them if you can help it."

"Shut up and climb," she snapped. Then, as Ianna and Mekur threw the other line down, she waved to Odus. "Go!"

Torian and Karlsu were already firing into the horde. With the distance and the lack of anything but swamp and a few trees to block the firing lines, the only limit to how many rakghouls they could kill was how many times they could pull the trigger before the monsters reached them.

Rakghouls. Always more rakghouls. There had to be a way to wipe these things out forever.

The three of them fired into the swarm, filling the air with as many blaster bolts as they could manage, but every time Aqura glanced up, there were more rakghouls coming. How were there so many? They'd stretched out to the horizon thirty seconds ago and they _still_ stretched out to the horizon!

It was hard to tell how far the front line of monsters was, too. Maybe a hundred meters? Eighty, closing in on fifty? One came close enough that it almost looked like Torian would have to kick it away, and all of them were climbing over their dead like none of it mattered.

"We're up! Come on!"

"Go!" Aqura yelled, pushing forward and firing her flamethrower into the swarm. Rakghouls started to boil as they charged, but she was running out of fuel and didn't have any missiles left. She fired her railgun and must have killed twenty beasts with the single shot, but there were always, always more.

"Mandokarla!"

Aqura fired up her jets at Torian's yell, lifting off out of the reach of grasping claws and gnashing teeth. She almost laughed as she flew up to join the others on the wall. She landed beside them without a stumble and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Just a quick walk to Republic territory, then?" she asked. She scanned the trees over the swamp, then ruins in the distance to see if there was any sign of Jicoln.

Torian and Karlsu both leaned over the edge and started firing their blasters again. Aqura would have told them to stop being ridiculous, but when she looked down, the rakghouls were swarming up the wall, climbing over each other to reach them.

"Keep moving," Karlsu ordered. "Doctor Cel, Garthe, Mekur, and Odus. All of you, continue along the wall until you reach Republic territory. We'll try to keep them pinned here so they don't follow you."

Aqura didn't bother paying attention. She just kept shooting and shooting until she was borrowing clips from Torian. Then they both ran out.

"Time to run, Karlsu!" she shouted. She spent the last of her fuel burning the uppermost raks, but they just fell backwards to help building the way up for the others.

Karlsu took the order for what it was and the three of them started making their way along the wall after the civilians. The footing was treacherous and Aqura was the only one stepping with any confidence, and even that was only because she had a jetpack in case the worst happened.

The rakghouls spilled over the top of the wall.

There was shouting and screaming as the group stumbled and climbed over jagged metal and lengths of rebar, crawling along as the rakghouls behind them scrabbled and fell and kept coming, kept gaining, regardless.

There was the edge of the wall ahead. There was a platform, the rounded top of a building below, but it was dangerous and they would take too long to jump to it and clear the way.

Too many of them, just like Aqura had said. Too many, so they would die.

Mako would die.

No.

"NO!"

Aqura roared and turned on the spot, cutting two bars of metal away from the wall to give herself room to strike.

"Mandokarla, what-"

"Just run! I'll hold them. I have my jets."

She set her stance, readied her blades, and waited for the first of the monsters to reach her.

The first reached her blades neck-first. She lobotomized the second one and cut the third's throat before stepping forward and slamming it back into its kin hard enough to crush its chest.

Ten rakghouls fell trying to claw their way past the corpses Aqura had stacked in front of herself before they knocked them over.

She killed them, too, then chanced a glance backwards.

No sign of the others. Time to-

There was an explosion amidst the rakghouls and the wall shook. Aqura stumbled and fell to her knees to keep her balance. She barely regained her footing in time to catch and throw a rakghoul from atop her. She didn't even have time to watch it fall before putting a blade through the next one's eye.

"Sis!"

Aqura snapped to look at the speeder coming to hover almost beside the wall, packed with people all beckoning to her.

"What are you doing, kid?" Gault yelled. "Get in!"

She didn't question. She just leapt.

The speeder rocked with her weight, but Torian caught her wrist and pulled her on. She couldn't even sit, with so many people crammed onto the machine not nearly rated for so many passengers.

"That's the second time today you tried your little "hold the line" thing," Mako grumbled, glaring at her. "At least reload before you try it again, alright?"

Aqura nodded as the speeder slowly backed away from the wall until rakghouls stopped trying to leap onto the vehicle and simply sat on the wall, howling in rage.

Then a squad of Imperial troops rounded the ruins and came in sight of the rakghoul swarm. Aqura would have been horrified if the squad hadn't immediately been joined by three more. Then a pair of tanks.

"Wow," Mako said, and Aqura caught the waver in her voice. "That was fast."

"What was fast?" asked Lieutenant Karlsu, who was halfway hanging out of the back seat of the speeder.

"A friend of ours let the Empire know that somebody veeery important was coming this way out of the Tower Outpost," Gault said as he guided the speeder carefully away from the blaster fire and explosions. "But she might have forgotten to mention all the rakghouls in the way."

He laughed, and Mako and Aqura laughed with him, at least until Mako started coughing.

The trip to Republic territory was quiet after that, and long. Mako tried to suppress her coughing, but it was obvious, at least to Aqura, the virus was starting to get to her.

It was only after Lieutenant Karlsu gave his ID and a pair of scout speeders came to guide the group to the Olaris Reclamation Base that Aqura finally got up the courage to ask. She turned around from her perch on the front hood of the speeder and looked at Doctor Cel.

"Doctor Cel," Aqura said, "we're going to need a dose of your rakghoul cure."

"The vaccine?" Cel asked, confused. "Alright. I didn't know that was going to be your payment, but I can have some serums for all of you in a few days, if that's what you want."

Aqura shook her head. "No, we need one for Mako, now."

She gestured to her sister, who flinched and grumbled, "you couldn't wait to mention that?"

Garthe and Odus flinched away from Mako, but Torian, who was practically sitting in her lap, gave no reaction.

"That's…" Doctor Cel sighed. "That's not how vaccines work. We don't have a cure. If…Mako… has been bitten-"

"Don't tell me there's nothing we can do," Aqura growled.

Mako put her hands up and glared at Aqura. "Stop that! You're going to scare everyone."

The slicer craned her neck to look at Ianna Cel. "I did my research, Doc. There were some recoveries back when the Republic first landed, before you even sent plans for the vaccine in. That sounds like a cure to me."

Aqura's grip on the speeder tightened at that. If this woman got Mako killed because she wanted to keep some stupid military secret, there wouldn't be anywhere she could hide.

"That was a special case," Doctor Cel said, looking away. "The Jedi Master who helped develop the vaccine also spent time trying to learn how to heal the plague, but even with the Force, half of her patients still turned."

"How did she do it?" Aqura snapped. "You've got Jedi in the Republic. Have one of them help."

The doctor flinched. "It's not that simple. Master Azeel was a healer by specialty, and even she needed to generate and donate the antibodies herself-"

"How would we do that?!"

"Sis!" Mako held up her hand again, then another one to the doctor. She suppressed a cough and glared. "Stop it. I'm not dead, you don't have to take revenge on everybody in the galaxy already."

She looked back at Ianna Cel. "How do we do that, Doctor Cel?"

The doctor looked from Mako to Aqura. "It's a bad idea. It probably wouldn't even work. We don't have an updated serum ready, which means the only way to build up the antibodies fast enough would be to use the old serum, and I probably wouldn't have risked that without Master Azeel's healing abilities-"

"Keep beating around the bush and Mandokarla's as likely to kill you as the Imperials," Gault interrupted. "Get to the point, lady."

"We'd need to use a vaccine and have somebody bitten by the rakghouls to generate the antibodies that could save her," Doctor Cel blurted out. "But since we only have the old vaccine on hand, it would probably kill them."

"The old vaccine," Mako repeated. "The three-hundred-year-old vaccine?"

Doctor Cel nodded.

"Take too long to make the new stuff," Torian concluded. "Mako might turn."

The doctor bit her lip. "That's…"

She trailed off.

"What?" Aqura asked. "What?"

The speeder landed inside the Republic base and Lieutenant Karlsu pulled the doctor from the speeder while the other three civilians all but ran to the nearby Republic soldiers. Aqura sent a glare at Karlsu and Ianna that stopped them both from doing the same.

The doctor was going to answer her questions.

The doctor shook her head and mumbled hopelessly, "even with the Force, Master Azeel never saved anybody who'd been infected for more than a day… and even those were only the ones who took longest to turn."

Aqura looked up at the sky.

The sun was starting to set.

Mako had been bitten late that morning.

They had one night to make a cure.

Mako suppressed a cough.


	19. Taris 5

"I'll do it."

Aqura and Torian looked at each other and everybody else looked at them.

"Why you?" Aqura asked.

At the same time, Torian shook his head and said, "not you."

"Guys."

"Why not me?" Aqura snapped. "I'm her sister, she got hurt on my hunt, it's my responsibility!"

"Guys."

"Better fighter," Torian explained calmly. "Best chance at Jicoln."

 _Kaff_ "Guys!"

Both Mando'ade turned to look at Mako, who was red-faced and glaring at them.

"I don't want to die," Mako said, gently holding Gault back as she swayed slightly, "but this is stupid. Do you hear what you're arguing about? Both of you want to risk your lives for the slim chance that you can do what a Jedi healer can do? While the both of you were arguing, I looked her up. She's _famous_. As in, third person to reach her rank in the Jedi Order, _ever_ , famous. And the first person with the rank got it posthumously."

Aqura blinked. "That means they were already dead, right?"

"YE-" Mako broke off in a coughing fit and Gault moved in to help steady her.

"Yes," she finished, much more quietly. "This plan is insane. It isn't going to work. Just- just forget this bantha brain and we can find someone else. There's a Dr. Eck-"

"This is your very best chance," Dr. Cel interrupted, ignoring Mako's insult. "If you still want your friend to live, this is the only scientifically proven cure in the galaxy."

Aqura and Torian exchanged another look, then Torian walked up to the doctor, already rolling up his sleeve.

"Take him and... get him ready," Aqura said. She watched the pair leave.

He was a braver person than she was. If it weren't Mako, this wasn't a risk she would ever consider.

"You can't do this!" Mako protested.

Aqura ignored her, though a part of the huntress argued that this might be one of their last conversations.

"Kid," Gault said gently, "when was the last time you won an argument with her?"

Mako opened her mouth.

"One about family," Gault corrected himself.

The slicer deflated.

It felt like a long time, waiting in tense silence for Torian to return, but it was only a few minutes. The doc probably had a syringe of the stuff ready and waiting for just such an occasion.

"Should head out now," Torian said as he came within earshot. He looked to Mako and pointed over his shoulder. "Doc is waiting for you."

"Gault?" Aqura asked.

The devaronian nodded and squeezed Mako's shoulder. "I'll stay with her."

Mako glared at him, at Torian, and especially at Aqura, but she didn't say anything.

"Mako," Aqura said gently, taking a step forward.

Mako cracked. Her eyes glistened and she stepped forward, throwing her arms around Aqura's armour. "You are so, so stupid," the girl growled. "I'm not going on your list, understand? And neither is he. And you still stink."

Aqura just nodded and pulled off one of her gauntlets so she could stroke Mako's hair for what would not be the last time.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, Sparks," she whispered. It came out so robotic, so inhuman, that it just felt wrong, but there wasn't time for more. Not if they wanted to somehow beat a Jedi Master's efforts.

"I love you," Mako answered

They let go and Aqura pulled on her gauntlet. Gault gave her a nod and she turned to join Torian in the speeder. As they took off, Aqura saw Doctor Cel leading Mako into one of the nearby buildings and caught the doctor saying something about making Mako rest.

The speeder swept into the air with barely a hail to the Republic base control tower, then raced into the east.

After almost a minute of silence, Aqura asked, "what's the plan?"

She knew, of course, or well enough to guess, but that didn't feel like enough right now.

"Leaving Republic territory," Torian explained.

Aqura almost asked why, but she knew, and Torian knew she knew. They couldn't waste time avoiding military patrols or searching for the few rakghouls that had avoided being purged, but going anywhere except east might mean more rakghouls than they could handle.

But they both knew that, so the pair lapsed into silence again.

How hard would it be to just ask why? To just turn to Torian and ask why he was currently piloting their speeder towards a situation that nobody they'd heard of except a Jedi Master had survived?

But it _was_ difficult. It felt like she should know that in the same way she knew why they were leaving Republic territory.

Torian was no older than Mako. He was a clever young man looking for revenge. He wasn't suicidal. He was risking his life to save Mako's because… Ideas flicked through Aqura's mind, most clearly wrong, some hopefully wrong, none definitely correct.

"Sis? _Kaff_ " Aqura's helmet comm crackled slightly, then stabilized.

The huntress sat forward in her seat, listening intently.

"Mako? What is it? Are you alright? Should we come back?"

"No!" Mako gave a slow, rasping breath audible even over the comms. Trying to keep from coughing anymore. "I wanted to help. I've got a position on a group of rakghouls. Well, an Imperial scout ship does, anyway. Hey, _kaff_! Back off, Doc! Gault - _hckkk khaff_ \- don't let her stick me with that, I'm busy _kaff_ saving the day."

Aqura listened in bemused silence. She trusted Gault to take care of Mako, but it was hard not to feel torn between giving Mako the chance to fight or making her save her strength.

After a few seconds, Mako said, "thanks, Gault. Mandokarla, I'm sending you coordinates. Uh… oya, alright?"

The link went silent then. Aqura blinked back a couple of tears, then held up her holocommunicator. As soon as it activated, a map appeared, loaded with military and rakghoul locations.

Torian looked over and altered course without a word. The spot marked on the map was north. From the look of it, it could be part of the rakghoul swarm from earlier, fled from an Imperial counterattack.

Mako was playing the monsters like puppets, it seemed.

Good. Kandosii.

Now just to get there.

And they did. It took forever, with questions and worry burning at Aqura's mind, but they passed out of Republic territory, over twisted forests, ruins, and swamplands… and twisted ruins and forests _in_ swamplands. They stayed low to see, but even with Mako's coordinates, minutes slipped by into hours as they searched the darkening night.

"There."

Torian noticed them first, or at least reacted first. Aqura was too caught up in her own thoughts to realize she was looking straight at a small pack of rakghouls until Torian spoke up.

She looked down at the roiling mass of them. Less than twenty and some were injured, limping along with the rest of the pack.

Torian's life for a chance at Mako's.

"Oya," she growled. "I'll drop down. Follow when I've caught one."

"Could work," Torian agreed. Then, as she moved to leap off the speeder, he grabbed her by the back of her armour.

"Better plan," he offered, setting the speeder to hover and drawing his rifle.

She got the idea and drew her pistol. Not exactly for precision work, but she wasn't much of a shot with the thing, anyway.

There was a moment of silence, then Torian took the first shot.

The next minute was a bloodbath as the rakghoul screeched, leaped at them futilely, and eventually fled further into the swamp. A few lagged behind, the injured ones, but one didn't make it far at all. The speeder landed beside it and Aqura shot the little monsters that tried to turn back to attack them. Then they turned on the target.

It looked so helpless. Before Tor shot it, it had been limping. Now, with a hole through its other leg, it struggled to claw its way towards them.

Vicious little hut'uun.

Without a word, Aqura strode up to the thing, ignoring the mud sucking at her feet, and hauled it up out of the muck. It snarled and snapped, but it couldn't break her grip.

Just to be sure, she took one hand off its neck and methodically snapped one arm, then the other.

Torian winced.

"Can't be too careful," she said.

He nodded, then started unstrapping the bracer on his left arm.

It was over without ceremony, without any fuss at all. Torian presented his arm, the rak bit down, and Aqura punched a vibroblade into the base of its skull.

The body fell and the pair looked at each other.

"Like a trip to the market, right, Tor?"

Even through the synthesizer, the joke must have sounded forced. Torian barely nodded as he pulled on his bracer and headed back for the speeder.

Off in the swamps, the rakghouls were howling. Calling for more.

Aqura's holocommunicator chirped.

Not her helmet, so not Mako. At this distance, anybody else was forced to holocom her, but anybody else didn't matter. She could ignore it. Unless it was Gault or Doctor Cel.

"Osik," she growled, pulling the device out and climbing into the speeder. "Get us to hover."

Torian nodded and pulled up before Aqura ended the annoying chirping and answered the call.

A protocol droid appeared on the other side.

Aqura let out a string of profanities that didn't quite drown out the droid's next words.

"Grand Champion. Please hold for Darth Malgus."

"Darth who-?"

The image flickered and a massive man in black armour appeared. His broad shoulders, long cape, and overall demeanour managed to create a sense that he loomed over her, despite the size of his image.

Torian looked over, clearly worried and… was he turning a little green? Already?

"Grand Champion," he declared in a voice almost as synthetic as Aqura's. "My name is-"

"Darth Malgus, you have a job for me, I'm busy; hurry or I hang up," Aqura snapped.

The Sith's eyes flashed and, for an instant, Aqura's common sense pierced the fear numbing her mind. She'd just backtalked a Sith. A Darth, even.

"My Lord," she tried, backpedaling as best she could, "two of my crew have been infected with the Rakghoul Plague. The cure-"

"I care little," Malgus interrupted with a sweep of his hand. "Within twenty-four hours, you will report to my coordinates in the Veragi Sector. Come prepared to hunt a Jedi through any possible terrain. Mandalore assured me you would be capable."

Twenty-four hours? To cure Mako, hunt down Jicoln, then travel across the galaxy? That sounded like madness, even if Aqura were willing to put Mako through the stress while she was healing.

"A Jedi?" she asked. "Wouldn't a Sith be better fit for-"

"This is not a job for a Sith," Malgus declared. "You will not be alone. I have commissioned the help of one of the Empire's finest. You need only be here when the time comes. Do not waste time."

The transmission ended and the holocom made a soft chime as it registered downloaded coordinates. She didn't even bother to check them. There were more important things to-

Her helmet comm crackled with static and a voice spoke that wasn't Mako's.

"All the way out here, verd'ika. Hope you're a better fighter than-"

"Down!" Aqura shouted to Torian. "Take us down."

"-you are a tracker."

Torian moved fast, reacted without question, but the speeder had barely shifted its weight before something hit its underside and exploded. They rocked and Aqura was nearly thrown from her seat, dropping her communicator over the side as the vehicle started to drop out of the sky.

"Jate'kara, ade."

The static cut out, but whether Jicoln had turned off his comm or moved out of range, Aqura didn't have time to care. Air whistled past her helmet and Torian wrestled with the controls to try to get something out of them and avoid crashing. With a roar of fury, Aqura grabbed the dashboard and stood, then reached over and pulled Torian up out of his seat.

"Hang on!" she shouted, then she jumped, dragging the young man along with her.

It wasn't a smooth trip to the ground. There wasn't much in the way of trees or buildings to avoid this far out from civilization, but there were still rakghouls, ruins, and the never-ending swamp, none of which they could do anything about. Instead, Aqura tried to shift her weight so that she could take the mass of an entire other armoured Mando'ad on her jets. By the time they stopped tumbling and she thought they might be safe, the speeder hit the ground. It didn't explode like she might have feared, but the ground rippled out from it impossibly.

Not ground. Swamp. As the ripple passed under the pair and extended further past, Aqura swore. A lot. Then she reached out her arm, fired her grappling hook and, with one long, drawn-out shout of profanity, let momentum carry her and her passenger down and around a ruin towards safe, dry land.

Safe, dry, hard land.

No amount of balance or practice could have saved the landing the two had, and they rolled and sprawled in a jumble of clanking heavy armour.

For a few seconds, Aqura didn't move, just lay there trying to figure out if there was a part of her that didn't hurt. At first, she thought it was just her shoulder that she'd injured, but it turned out that was only the part that hurt the most.

"Shabuir," she groaned, not moving. "What was he even doing here?"

She heard Torian standing up and making his way over to her, but it felt like a good idea just to let the kolto do its work while she rested a moment.

"Near his territory," Torian explained. "Further south. Honours might be hidden nearby."

"I don't care about his honours right now," Aqura growled, though there was less heat in it than the situation made her feel. Probably because she was growling at the dirt. "We'll kill his legacy and do that Sith's job later."

"Geroya be Haran's begun," Torian said. "He'll hunt us."

He didn't sound disappointed by that. Aqura was only just starting to feel the rest of her aches as her shoulder started getting painkillers from her suit, but this kid still wanted to hunt Cadera down. While he was infected by the plague, no less!

All they needed to do was get to Mako. Aqura, Mako, and Gault. She'd make sure Gault came along and they wouldn't walk into any more traps.

"Have to move." Torian's voice came from right beside her now, and Aqura turned her head to see him with his arm extended down to her.

Mako.

Aqura reached out and grabbed his wrist. He took hers and pulled her to her feet.

They set out without a word, Aqura to the southwest, Torian heading south.

She stopped and looked over to him.

"The base is that way," she said, pointing the direction she'd been walking.

Torian nodded. "Jicoln's south. Should deal with him first."

Something clicked, past the aches and the pain of Aqura's shoulder.

"How do you know it was Jicoln?" she asked suspiciously.

The old warrior had radioed her helmet directly. Torian wouldn't have heard his voice.

"Close-range transmission. Nobody else in range," Torian explained, but the man couldn't have made the fact he was holding something back any more obvious if he'd had a sign.

"What else?" Aqura prompted. She crossed her arms, which hurt like a knife to the shoulder, but kept her from reaching for one of her weapons.

Torian looked away.

Aqura waited.

The boy cracked.

"Suspected his territory was close," he mumbled. "Thought he was kilometers off, back near the Imperial base. Didn't think he could find us."

Osik. The poor kid sounded guilty, and for not dealing with something Aqura hadn't even thought of.

It took another few seconds of silence, but Aqura eventually nodded. There wasn't much else to do. This was their situation now. They had…

She checked the time on her HUD.

Time. They had time. They would make it.

"We have to get back to Mako," she reminded him. "Now."

"Hunted the whole way?" Torian asked, sweeping his arm back to the south. "Two shots, warning and crippling, both almost killed you. Can't be surprised again."

"So you want to hunt him?"

Torian nodded.

"No."

The way Torian looked at her was so shocked and hurt that Aqura didn't know whether it made her feel like laughing or comforting the poor boy, but that didn't matter. She stood by her refusal.

"A day," she said, echoing the words that had been ringing through her mind since they left the spaceport. "That's the most time Mako has, and that's if she's lucky. Every minute we spend out here is shorter odds for her. I'm not risking that."

"Can't help her if you're dead!" Torian snapped. "He'll hunt us. You're hurt, I'm going to slow down. He'll catch up, kill us."

Aqura opened her mouth to shout him down, then shut it and screamed through grit teeth.

When she was done, she snapped, "fine. We hunt him. Win the Geroya be Haran. Then we save Mako. But I swear to the Force and the Manda itself, if he's not dead by the time daylight hits, we're leaving if I have to drag both our bodies out of here."

His only response was to nod and turn south. Aqura followed, nursing her shoulder and trying to think what she knew about this Hell Game they were heading for.

Simply, really. Hunt and kill everything Jicoln had accomplished, then do the same with him. Three honours were traditional, then he'd be bound by the rules of the game to come face them.

Better if they could just find him and kill him, have done with the whole thing. The Haran was a cruel thing, a tradition centered around honour that felt entirely honourless. It would do in long form what she'd done to the man who'd killed Braden. Jicoln didn't deserve that.

Aqura checked the time again.

If Jicoln got Mako killed, she'd happily destroy his legacy.

Without a word, she trudged after Torian, south into the hunting grounds between the Empire and Republic territories.

* * *

"This way." Torian pulled himself over some rubble and kept lookout as Aqura threw herself up over the side. They'd reached a block of ruins, scattered buildings with plenty of places to hide if it weren't for the stretches of swamp between each pile of rubble.

"How close are we?"

"Close. Hurry."

Aqura shook her head and followed, blaster out and neck starting to cramp as she scanned the area for the thousandth time. She didn't know which one of them was worse off in this situation. Whether he knew it or not, Torian was slowing down and starting to breath a little harder. His body was trying to fight off the plague, but he wasn't handling it perfectly. As for Aqura, the trip through the swamp had actually made her relatively cleaner than the rakghoul filth she'd smeared on herself that day, so now there were glints of gold flashing in the moonlight.

Neither of them were in a good position for sneaking into Jicoln's hunting ground, but they'd been searching for over an hour and Torian claimed to have found signs of recent activity.

On the one hand, good. The place was completely dead and anything was probably a sign of Jicoln. On the other hand, this was such an obvious trap that Aqura couldn't believe they were heading towards it.

Torian came up against a wall and put his back to it. She crouched against it a second later. In the seconds of silence as he gestured over his shoulder and around the corner, she could hear his breathing. Rough and ragged. Deeper than it should be.

"It's here?" Aqura asked quietly.

Tor nodded.

"I'll get it," she said.

She stood and raced around the corner, running fast enough that she was five meters into the open before she registered what she was running towards.

It was a shrine, of sorts. Minimalistic, hard to pick out from the ruins, but a cracked rifle lay, almost encased in a block of metal with flaps bent down to hold it in place The block was part of a larger slab, perhaps once a ruined wall and now hosting tiny shards of metal embedded into slots carved into it.

That brought Aqura up short, even as she noticed the massive antenna that reached up from the shrine, hidden from the elements by the ruins around them.

The metal shards. They were pieces of armour.

Osik. This was a Mando'a grave marker.

This was a Mando'a grave marker built by an outcast whose clan was disgraced. These might be the only sign that those warriors ever existed in the whole galaxy.

Aqura's helmet comm crackled.

"Down!" she shouted, and dove for the space between the shrine wall and the ruin, hoping it would provide her with enough cover to get a look at Jicoln before he shot her. Again.

This time, however, it was Mako's voice on the comm.

"Sis?"

Aqura let loose a grumbling, moaned sigh and let herself lean back against the shrine.

"Mako. How'd you-"

"Are you... there? Listen, I patched... through a new intermediary. I don't… know where you are, but… Gault thinks you got shot down. … If you… lost your comm, steal one and get to… me, okay? I'll do what I can. Sparks, remember?"

"Mako, no. Don't you dare try-"

The link went dead. Like it had kept doing the entire time Mako was talking. Cutting out the transmission, either because it was a bad link or because Mako was cutting the audio intentionally.

Mako was hiding her coughing.

"Osik," Aqura murmured. Then she called out, "Tor! It was Mako. She's getting worse. We have to hurry."

He grunted, a sound that drifted through the silence of the ruin. "Other shrines should be close. Easier to find from here."

"Good." Aqura pulled herself out of cover and rounded the shrine, bringing her flamethrower to bear on the blaster rifle and little fragments of clan long dead.

This wasn't right, wasn't something worth destroying just for one man.

Then she ignited the flames and torched the whole thing, blackening and charring metal, melting parts of the gun, cracking the stone.

He'd brought this on himself when he hurt Mako and declared Geroya be Haran.

She finished up and checked her fuel levels. Enough. It would have to do. Maybe the next shrine would be easier to melt into drooping slag.

"Tor, you still have your comm, right? I need to comm Mako."

There wasn't a verbal response, but Torian stuck his head around the corner and beckoned her towards him.

She'd call him paranoid, but Jicoln had already taken them by surprise twice, so she hurried over, slid up against the wall beside him, and held her hand out for his comm.

He unclipped it from his belt and handed it over.

In the moment the device passed from his hand to hers, there was the ring of a blaster bolt and the comm exploded.

Between the newfound searing pain in her hand and the blinding shrapnel, it took almost too long for Aqura to reach out, grab Torian, and haul the both of them around the corner.

Her comm crackled and Jicoln started talking, something about not calling for help, but she ignored it. If he wanted to talk, he'd talk, and she would focus on getting Torian's face treated with kolto.

The Mando was snarling against the pain, but he'd been lucky. His eyelashes were singed and he had a nasty gash right through his rite scar on his left cheek, but his eyes seemed fine when she forced them open to check.

"...most of them behind, but I have more. Will replace it. Can send your armour back to your clan, too."

"Thanks for the offer," Aqura spat back, thankful at least somebody was in helmet comm range to yell at. "You have anyone you want your armour sent to? Maybe Mand'alor?"

"The only one who might have taken my armour, Artus murdered in his crib. That's the man you serve, little girl."

"I don't serve anyone," she snapped, hurriedly clipping her kolto spray to her belt and shouldering Torian.

"Can move myself," he grunted.

"Then you get to be my shield," Aqura grumbled, and started moving to the opposite side of the ruins from where that first shot had come from. "Osik, Tor, you need a helmet. Your face is too pretty to get blown off by a sniper."

Torian let out a coughing laugh.

"Which way?" she asked.

"You're doing some pretty dirty work for somebody who doesn't serve," Jicoln said.

That conversation was turning into a lecture fast.

Torian pointed east, a little bit south.

"Alright," Aqura said. "Hang on."

This should work, she thought as she scanned the nearby buildings. She'd seen it in a holovid once.

Besides, the ruined city had had roads more than twenty meters wide. There was no way they were getting across while Jicoln was watching. Not without doing something unpredictable.

With no time to lose, she tightened her grip on Torian, aimed with her left arm, and ran. Four meters out, she fired her grapple. It caught in the cleft of a cracked building across the street, just at the end of its range.

Then she hit her jets.

The plan wasn't to go straight. It was a miracle she wasn't shot covering those few meters running in a straight line. Instead, she kicked off sideways, curled her body around, and locked the shoulder joint of her armour. Her jets launched her sideways and her grapple kept her locked to the building, and she and Torian arced across the broken city as a sniper round passed through the air behind them.

Armour screeched and the air whistled past, stone and metal blurred by, and Aqura held on for her, Torian, and Mako's lives.

Barely seconds later, she detached the grapple line and fought to get under control as the pair came in for a hard landing for the second time that night. In that dark, it was almost impossible to tell exactly how far the ground was, but she made a lucky guess and they hit the ground running. Aqura's instincts said to slow, to try to get herself under control, but they had to keep moving.

"Which way?!" she shouted again, and Torian took the lead, running with the speed of a man hunted.

"We need a new plan," she yelled, keeping her eyes on the uneven ground and not in the direction of Jicoln's last shot. He was on the other side of two buildings right now. It would have to do. "This is his territory. Taking the fight to him only works if we can surprise him!"

"Have to… reach the second shrine," Torian gasped as he vaulted a wall. "Before him. Set a trap at the last."

It didn't sound much better than making a dash for Republic territory would have, but they were committed now.

Aqura snarled, put her head down, and ran until Torian couldn't run any longer. It didn't take as long as it should have. Still, they managed to reach the other side of the bombed block of buildings and into a sort of trench made from a skyscraper that had fallen on its side, flattening the ground and throwing up rubble on either side.

Safety. For the moment.

Aqura grabbed Torian by the shoulder and pulled him to face her. His hand stayed on the wall he'd been leaning against, holding his weight, but he looked at her.

His face was ashen, sweaty, and it took an effort of will to convince herself it didn't resemble a rakghoul's flesh. It was probably just the moonlight.

Still, it took some of the fuel out of Aqura's fire.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

At his look of confusion, she shook her head, put an arm around him, and started walking up the trench. "Come on. We need to keep ahead of him."

That, at least, Torian understood, and doggedly put one foot in front of the other until he'd caught his breath.

By the time he was moving fast enough under his own speed for her to let him go, they'd changed directions twice and Aqura was thoroughly lost. She made a mental note to ask Torian for a lesson or two in tracking once they were done.

Then she returned to the task at hand.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked again. "Insisting we come here, taking the virus for Mako…" she gestured vaguely. "All of this. You left your ruus'alor so you could hunt Jicoln alone, but still let me hunt with you. Why?"

Torian was quiet for a few seconds, then he tilted his head and muttered, "this way." Eventually, when it didn't seem like he was going to say anything, he finally spoke up.

"Like you said. Can't hunt him alone."

"And that's the only reason?" she asked him skeptically. If they weren't moving so quickly, she would have crossed her arms just for effect.

"Main one," he grunted.

"And the virus? That was… brave, Tor. Gloriously brave. I mean it. But why?"

"Made sense. Might put me out of commission. Better me than you."

"She's my sister, not yours!"

He shrugged. Just shrugged and kept walking.

She was going to punch him. Nobody would blame her. She'd just beat an answer or two out of the quiet mir'solus and finally feel better about not taking care of him before all this got out of hand.

"WHY ARE YOU-"

"There."

Aqura cut off and looked in the direction Torian was pointing. There, a couple hundred meters away where the miserable, sparse forest attempted to grow into the ruins, was another antenna just like the one at the first shrine. She would have never noticed it if Torian hadn't been watching.

In her defense, it probably wasn't useful in a fight.

Her mind tried to run away with a few ideas that could make it combat-viable, but she clamped down on that and looked towards the direction Jicoln might be coming from.

"I'll go in," she decided. "You circle around and see if you can find the next one."

"Shouldn't split up."

"Shouldn't be doing a lot of stuff tonight," Aqura muttered. She wiped her hands across her chest and arms, brushing off the thin layer of dried scum on her armour. "I'm the better target. If he comes after me, you'll have time to destroy the last of his legacy."

Torian's expression flickered and he looked at her for what felt like ages, then nodded. "Something goes wrong, meet north of the ship's bridge," he said, pointing south to a big old Republic ship. Then he headed deeper into the ruins, quieter than Aqura ever managed.

Now all she had to do was pass by a few more buildings and reach the trees and shrine before the friendly neighborhood sniper caught up.

No time to waste. She broke into a sprint without thinking of the seven shattered buildings with sightlines on her at that moment alone. More for the entire path. That wasn't even counting the trees.

Aayha, don't fail her now.

It took a heart-stopping half a minute to cover the distance. The entire time, she expected a blaster bolt the size of a fist to slam into her and knock her down to finish off.

It didn't come. She reached the antenna and shrine without a sign of Jicoln.

Maybe she'd beaten him.

It didn't matter. She turned on the shrine.

And blinked.

It took her a few seconds to recognize what she was looking at. It looked like broken cylinders and rings.

No. Not rings. Collars. Broken slave collars. After another second and a glimpse of a shard of red crystal, she realized the cylinders were smashed lightsabers.

Her helmet comm crackled and she whirled, slamming her back against the shrine for cover and scanning the buildings and trees.

"I suppose you might call this one my shrine of ideals."

Nothing.

"What my clan fought to destroy, to challenge."

If he hadn't shot her yet, she couldn't have much time until he circled around.

"The Empire created a nation that should have shared its ideals with the Mando'ade, the strong empowered to rule over the weak."

Enough. Time to destroy the shrine and get out.

"Their version is corrupt, oppressive and cruel without reason."

Aqura spun and pulled the trigger on her blaster until there wasn't anything left of the trophies. Then, on a hunch, she shot the antenna, too.

"We should have been freeing… -ves… sto-"

Jicoln's voice faded and cut out as the antenna scorched, blackened, and started to smoke.

Aqura swore and started running for where she hoped Torian would be.

The cut-off meant that Jicoln had been passing his transmission through the antenna and was out of range of Aqura's helmet comm itself. That wasn't far, maybe five hundred meters, but it was enough to rule out the possibility that Jicoln was watching her. Which meant there was only one place a hunter would go.

To set a trap.

She couldn't just shout and Torian's comm was broken, so she was stuck heading towards the rendezvous and hoping Torian realized something had gone wrong.

Every corner seemed like it must be hiding her death or, worse, Torian's body. Every block she ran felt like another miracle, and even as she neared the massive shipwreck, she could only think that Gault wouldn't have let them get into this much trouble, not without a plan.

Torian's plans were too slow and Aqura hadn't stopped panicking since Mako was bitten.

She shook her head once, hard. Gault wasn't here and Mako was hurt and out of contact. It was her job to take care of her family, alone if she had-

"Mandokarla!" hissed Torian from a nearly-intact building. She came to a skidding halt and hurried to join him, huddled into cover again, this time from every side.

"Did you find it?" she asked. He started to nod, but she interrupted him. "Never mind. It's a trap. I don't know what kind, but Jicoln skipped the second shrine. He's got to be waiting at the next one."

Torian nodded, unsurprised.

"Found his bolthole," he said, nodding back towards the Republic ship. "You can beat him?"

"Bal'ban," Aqura said with a with a dismissive wave. "But I'm not going in without a plan. Do we at least know where it is?"

He nodded again and started moving, gesturing for her to follow.

She grabbed his shoulder.

"Wait."

He looked back at her impatiently, but at least he didn't shake her off. She wasn't sure he could have. His hair was damp with sweat, though he wasn't breathing hard and the night was cool.

"I asked you a question before." She pulled him around to look at him. "You're carrying my sister's cure in your veins and I thought that gave me an idea of you, but then you convinced me to come back to fight Jicoln. Why? Why do that? Why risk both, trying to do them all at once?"

"You usually ask why people help you?" Torian grumbled, leaning back against a ruined wall.

"She's _my_ sister," Aqura snapped.

Torian cocked his head and stared at her, like he was trying to see past her helmet.

"Said that before. What does it mean?"

"You're risking your life twice, for two things at the same time, one of which shouldn't matter to you! My sister…" Aqura took a breath and finished, much more quietly, "shouldn't matter to you."

Torian looked at her quizzically. "Why not?"

"Because you're Mand...o'ad…" Aqura trailed off, realizing what she was saying.

It wasn't even something she'd realized she thought before, that other Mando'ade simply didn't care about her clan, maybe about any clans other than their own. She certainly didn't care about anyone else's clans, except maybe in the expectation that they should care for themselves.

"Don't care about clans," Torian said with a shrug so nonchalant he clearly didn't realize how insane the words were. "Was brought into the clan by Vorten, never really fit in. Should have. Cin Vhetin. Others care too much about clan. That's why."

"That's… why you helped?" Aqura asked, shaking her head slowly, as if trying to make her thoughts move. "Because Mako matters no matter her clan?"

Torian nodded, so Aqura continued her guess. "And you're going after Jicoln because that will sever you from your old clan? Because that's how you can finally get your Cin Vhetin?"

He hesitated and looked away, but after a moment, he said, "yes."

That seemed wrong. All this, so he could throw away his family's legacy?

Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "come with me."

Torian looked at her in confusion, then his eyes glanced in the direction of the last shrine.

Aqura shook her head. "No, when I leave. Come with us. Killing Jicoln will give me the right to reform my old clan. Join us. You won't have to lose your legacy. You're saving Mako's life, that's more than enough to earn you a new start with me. With us, I mean."

Now it was Aqura's turn to look away. She'd never offered anything like this to anyone. Well, to Mako and Gault, sort of, but she hadn't had a clan yet, and both of them were her family already. She couldn't claim to know Torian yet.

Maybe now was a good time to start. Right after killing Jicoln.

"Alright."

"Really?!" Aqura snapped to look at Torian so quickly her neck cracked slightly.

Again, that nod, thoughtful and… content? Sincere? Matter-of-fact? Something Aqura couldn't quite pin down, but slow and reasonable, having thought it all through and come to a conclusion he accepted fully.

"Cin Vhetin, for me and for your new clan. Can't ask for a better aliit'alor than a Grand Champion, right?"

He looked away and coughed, but Aqura wasn't paying attention.

"Osik," she muttered, eyes wide. "Osik, you're right. I'd be the clan leader. _Osik._ "

Rather than think about it, she shook her head sharply and turned to the building exit.

"Plan," she decided. "We need a plan and we need to get moving. Come on, Tor."


	20. Taris 6

This was Aqura's least favourite part of the plan. Separated with no way to communicate and Torian looking worse than ever. If he had to fight Jicoln alone, there was no question what would happen to him.

Even Aqura wasn't confident about a fight on Jicoln's territory, if the plan didn't work. The old man was an incredible shot with that rifle of his.

The ruins weren't so extensive in this area. It was just a few remnant's of walls that stretched on for kilometers and several stories high, all surrounding the crashed Republic ship.

She had a sightline on the shrine. At least, she was fairly certain she did. The antenna peeked out from behind a mass of metal, all sheltered underneath the ruins of a building floor. Unlike the last two, there were no good angles to fire on the shrine from any direction.

Aqura took a deep breath and resisted the urge to run a hand through her hair. Her gauntlet was still a bit grimy and her head was the only part of her that had escaped the day unscathed. Until now, of course.

Taris smelled horrible, she decided. She'd rather have kept her helmet on.

Except that wouldn't have worked. The trick was that leaving her helmet with Torian would give him a chance to distract Jicoln. There was a lot riding on luck, but all Torian had to do was go in, let Jicoln take notice of the helmet comm, and get out while Aqura burned the last shrine. Then they would meet up to call Jicoln out for the ritual finish.

She tried to check the time on her HUD, then rolled her eyes because that habit wouldn't help. Instead, she took the little chronometer Torian had given her out of her belt pouch.

Almost time. One more minute, to be safe.

Of course, if Jicoln didn't take the bait, they'd be in even more trouble. Partly because Aqura would likely have an unfortunate new smoking problem.

Aqura spent the minute or so contemplating life and worrying about Mako. When that was done, as done as it ever was, she took a deep breath and started moving cautiously out of hiding and towards the shrine.

Could be mines. Might be another rakghoul trap if there were any still around. Maybe nets, to pin her down for his rifle? The damp ground could be laced with incendiary chemicals or even simple noxious fumes.

With each thought, Aqura scanned the area, watching the ground or walls, even taking a deep breath just to see if it made her feel lightheaded or reminded her of anything out of uncle Lekan's workshop.

Nothing.

A clicking sound proved her wrong a second later and her blaster came up to train on twin lines of auto-turrets coming out of the walls.

That made sense, a part of her thought. Turrets both to pin the enemy down and to notify Jicoln, even protect the place if somebody came while he was away, just like now.

The other part of her was busy throwing out her grapple line and dragging herself up to the first turret as it pushed out of the wall. She hit the thing at a speed that felt like it should have broken the machine, then had to hang on just to stay up on the wall and behind the cover the turret's exposed base provided. It tried to shoot her, but she just ejected her vibroblade and stabbed the thing in one of its gears. The turret went limp, still firing and trying feebly to turn towards her.

Good enough for her. She ducked her head and held onto the turret base with one hand, curled up into an awkward ball as her other hand guided the turret to fire on its counterparts.

The resulting shootout wasn't exactly efficient, but the turrets were clearly powerful enough to damage each other, given that three of the others broke down before destroying the one she was hiding behind.

Now she had cover and the most awkward position any Mando'ad had ever been in for an attack.

She peeked her head out to see the turrets she had to target.

And nearly got it shot off in the process.

Pulling back as quickly as she could, she noted that there was one silver lining. The second turret was way off in its aim, probably damaged in some way. That meant only one turret to target, the one furthest along the same wall she was on.

There was one option. She'd even tried it earlier today, sort of.

She took a look at the grappling line still attached to her turret, then started measuring out line.

"Oya," she breathed, then jumped backwards.

She hit the end of her line and fell, letting out slack on her line and catching her feet, then ran down and along the wall. The turret's shots followed just behind until she started coming almost straight at it. With a kick off the wall and a burst of her jetpack, she dodged out, then in, and slammed into the turret with her feet hard enough to bend the neck.

She managed to catch hold of the base, then lock her gauntlet and pull hard enough to tear off the badly-damaged turret she'd been using to swing on. After that, she dropped to the ground and quickly disentangled the turret head and neck from her grapple line.

The shrine was only a few meters away, inside a bombed-out room with a fully-intact wall. There wasn't a way in except to go over, with a little help from a couple of spare ladder rungs that clung to the duracrete for dear life.

The Mandalorian sighed. Trap. Obvious trap. It wasn't clear what kind, but that didn't make it any less obvious that it was.

If she had the option, she'd knock down the wall and keep herself an easy exit. Instead, she looked around quickly, then decided her best protection would be to not be inside if something happened.

"Grappling hook," she said solemnly, "you are my best friend."

She threw the hook around the nearest turret's neck - the poor thing was still firing pitifully - gave it a tug, then climbed over the wall.

If nothing else, the line would give her a quick way out.

The shrine was almost barren. For a moment, Aqura wondered if Jicoln had cleared it out and left, but that would have defeated the purpose of the entire ritual. Once she looked, though, there was one item on the platform, a faded picture.

Tentatively, she picked it up. Outside of wall hangings on Nar Shadaa and Alderaan, one didn't see flat, static images very often. Holos and screens were the norm.

This one was a simple picture, barely bigger than Aqura's palm. On it was an ageless picture of Jicoln and a muscular woman with a swollen, pregnant belly.

They both looked so happy, Aqura couldn't help but smile, too.

With a sigh, she put the picture down, stepped back, and raised her arm to burn the piece. It could be as simple as tearing the picture, but somehow that seemed too callous.

Even so, she hesitated. It was a beautiful picture of a happy family, and what if it was the last picture Jicoln had of his wife? Maybe the last picture of them together. Of all the things Jicoln could pick in his legacy to be destroyed, he'd chosen his family. Aqura wasn't sure she could risk something like that, even in the Hell Game.

Osik. She should just burn the thing and get to the rendezvous. It was Jicoln's own fault for putting something so precious in the Geroya be Haran, and by the end every memory of him would be ritually destroyed, anyway.

A holoprojector on the shrine flickered and created an image that, for just an instant, Aqura assumed was another family picture.

Then she realized the picture wasn't anything as idyllic as a man with his hand on his son's head.

Jicoln grunted and lifted Torian by his hair, brandishing the young hunter contemptuously.

"This is who you send to distract me?" Jicoln growled. He shook Torian, who let out a grunt of pain, but didn't struggle. "A child, dying of the plague? What, were you hoping he would infect me before he succumbed?"

Aqura almost screamed in frustration, but she clamped down and brandished her arm, flamethrower ready. "Let him go or I burn your photo, Jicoln! The last shrine, and then I call you out, no matter what you do to him. Let him go!"

At this point, she couldn't even say whether she was trying to protect Torian for his own sake or for Mako's, but Jicoln's precious family memories didn't matter to her anymore. This was her family he was threatening.

"Last chance," she finished in a dark whisper.

"B-bomb," Torian mumbled.

Aqura processed the word in the time it took Jicoln to glance down at Torian and reach for a device on his belt. She didn't need to see more. Almost simultaneously, she shot the projector and activated her grapple line and jetpack, hurling herself out up and out of the room.

The world exploded. The entire world transformed into sound, sound so loud it was blinding and numbing. It rattled Aqura in her armour and left her unable to think as she hurtled, uncontrolled, through the air away from the collapsing half-building. Everything fell. Her, the building, the ruin walls, the sky itself.

Then it all went dark.

* * *

Aqura woke up wishing she hadn't. She hacked up dust, then breathed in more that was still in the air, and the coughing just made the pounding in her head hurt even more. When she tried to get to her feet, found that her leg was trapped from the knee down. Her left arm seemed free until she pulled and realized the grappling line was catching on something if she pulled too far.

Torian.

Aqura popped her vibroblade and cut the grapple line, then contorted herself and started pulling on the wall atop her foot. There was a whine of servos and hydraulics, but her foot came out of the debris and mud with a sucking pop.

For two seconds, she lay there in the dust-filled darkness.

Torian was in trouble.

She pulled herself up out of the mud and started trudging towards the downed battleship. Or whatever it was. It didn't matter.

What mattered was finding and killing Jicoln, either to save Torian or to avenge him and Mako.

The bounty hunter picked up her pace, moving into a look loping run that ate the distance to the ship at a shocking speed. She reached the entrance Torian had disappeared into in minutes and didn't slow, dashing into the cramped corridors of the ship fast enough that she had to push off the wall to make the first turn. She didn't slow until a part of her screamed, in Gault's voice, that she was about to waste her last advantage - surprise.

She slowed gradually and caught her breath. Then, as quietly as her armour would allow, she forged ahead.

It took her too long to realize her path was being chosen for her. It was like the entire ship had been painstakingly shaped into a maze with only one viable route, easier to travel than the rest. It was also the route that left her most vulnerable as she approached. She turned around and realized the opposite was true, that Jicoln had firing lines and cover all the way from the entrance to his lair.

If he'd known she was coming, she wouldn't have stood a chance getting in.

It wasn't until she heard a voice that she breathed a sigh of relief.

Jicoln, unawares and talking to Torian in low, rumbling Mando'a.

"... good. If the infection hadn't weakened you, might have stood a chance. Tell me your name, I'll remember it for you."

There were a few seconds of silence as Aqura crept closer.

"Inevitable now. The plague takes everyone eventually. Don't struggle. I can't make it painless, but I can try to sooth it. I can kill you once you turn."

She could shoot him in the back of the head right now, while he tried to feed Torian some soup broth. All she had to do was shoot an unarmed man in the back.

And save Mako.

She squeezed the trigger in the same moment that Torian noticed her. Somehow, Jicoln reacted in time, maybe to Torian looking past him, maybe to the boy's eyes widening. It didn't matter. The old man threw himself to the side and threw his bowl at her. The blaster bolt hit the ground and Aqura raised her hand to keep the soup from her eyes.

She didn't have time to step back and counter or even change her aim as Jicoln tackled her to the ground. Her hand came up, softening a gauntleted blow to her head, but she still saw stars and Jicoln knocked her blaster from her hand before she could do anything else.

Without any leverage or room to move, Aqura activated a burst from her jetpack, sending her skidding across the ship floor and clipping Jicoln's legs on the way past.

By the time she rolled to her feet, back against the wall, he was on her again. She couldn't concentrate, couldn't think to do anything but block by instinct.

It wasn't enough. The old Mando hit her in the side, where her armour flexed. The moment the spots in her vision cleared, the wind was knocked out of her.

As she bent double, she felt hands go to her chin and the back of her head. Her mind flashed to the instinctive motion of snapping a humanoid neck.

Desperation gave her speed. The rest was luck. Her arm came up and she stabbed her vibroblade into Jicoln's wrist. She was halfway through twisting it when he pulled away with a roar.

She chopped wildly with both blades, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Jicoln dodged it all easily and caught her wrist with his good hand. Before he could do anything with it, though, she activated her flamethrower. It didn't hit him or even seem to surprise him, but the mechanism loosened his grip and gave her the chance to twist out and kick him hard in the chest.

They stumbled apart and Aqura brought her flamethrower up, but Torian moved first.

A net caught Jicoln on the side and took him to the ground, then electricity arced through the netting and he spasmed violently.

Aqura moved in, vibroblade ready. She'd end this quickly, no slow and painful death for Jicoln. Just brutal effic-

She didn't notice until too late that Jicoln had opened his ammunition pouch, didn't see the electricity that sparked the fuel cells, but she felt the result. It threw her onto her back and hard enough to slam her head into the ground.

For the second time that minute, Aqura saw stars.

"Osik!" she swore, clutching her head. "Dikutla mirdala shabuir!"

She was never, ever going on a hunt without her helmet again.

Aqura struggled to her feet at the same torturous speed as Jicoln, but only one of them had a blaster pointed at them.

Torian fired Aqura's blaster three times into Jicoln's chest. The armour took the brunt of it, but the old Mando went down just the same.

With a wobble that ended with her sitting down against the ship's wall, Aqura watched almost impassively.

"Is he dead?" she asked. "We have to go."

Jicoln managed to raise his head, but Torian didn't shoot him. Instead, he strode up to the old man and held a gun to Jicoln's head.

"Can you still speak the language, not-Mando?" Torian asked in Mando'a. "Today you're not-father, as well."

Aqura started, unsure she'd heard correctly. But Jicoln's reaction, his dawning wonder and horror, made it clear she hadn't.

Dar'buir. Not-father. Aqura's mind couldn't even get past the word.

"What?" the old man whispered. "My… my son? Alive?"

"Not your son," Torian said coldly.

Jicoln's hand came up and grabbed the blaster. He didn't do anything else and Torian didn't really try to stop him, but the move made Aqura freeze in the act of standing up.

"This is Artus's final revenge, then?" Jicoln asked, his weak voice belying his grip on the blaster at his head. "He swore he would destroy you, but I never imagined this. Who did you grow into, little Torian?"

"Nobody who matters to you," Torian growled. "All I want from you is my honour back, the honour you took."

Aqura took a minute step forward, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything sudden. Everything was too precarious. If she moved and Jicoln died… that couldn't happen. After all this, Torian couldn't possibly kill his own father.

Jicoln didn't break his son's gaze. "The plague. How long do you have?"

Torian shook his head. "Vaccinated. I will survive."

The breath of relief Jicoln gave at that seemed out of place in the moment, but Aqura understood. Jicoln knew what mattered.

"Then clan Cadera survi-"

"Not my name," Torian spat.

The old survivor's face hardened and he climbed to his feet. His face twisted in agony as he got his feet under him, but he managed to stand almost straight and look his son in the eye.

"That name has honour, boy, honour your clan fought for. How…" Jicoln grunted in pain and his grip slackened on the blaster. Torian didn't pull it away. "How many of us are left?"

Torian shook his head. "Clan Cadera doesn't exist anymore. Everyone was absorbed into the other clans. Most of us are treated as outsiders still. Your name has haunted me all my life."

Jicoln nodded sadly. "We fought for the freedom of slaves, to protect the rights of Mandalorians to govern themselves, to create a galaxy where the strong fight the strong instead of trampling on the weak. You carry that legacy, boy. We fought a righteous battle. You'll never get me to admit otherwise."

The pair were silent for a few seconds and Aqura almost moved in, but Torian looked thoughtful.

"I understand," said Torian.

There was still hope.

Jicoln let go of Torian's blaster and dropped his hands. There was another heartbeat of silence, then Jicoln said softly, "I know what you have to do. Just remember, it doesn't matter who your father was, only the father you will be."

Aqura smiled. That was true. It was Torian's choice what he took from his heritage, and he should take pride in his father. Torian could come back, help heal Mako, then they could both go to Artus and sort out something else, give Torian a chance at a family of his own.

"I'll do our name proud," Torian said, and Aqura gave a silent cheer.

Everything would be alright.

Then Torian raised his blaster and shot Jicoln in the head.

The body seemed to fall in slow motion. Jicoln hit his knees, then fell to the side, face slack and body lifeless. Without a word, Torian knelt down and broke off a cracked piece of armour. Then he stood, picked up Aqura's helmet, and walked over to her. She hadn't moved.

"Time to go. Dawn is close."

Aqura kept staring at the body, even as her helmet was placed in her hands.

"You killed him," she whispered. "You killed him."

Torian nodded. "My kill. Earned it. Deserved it. Will tell Mand'alor your part."

"My part," Aqura echoed in dawning horror.

She'd just helped a man kill his own father. Her father and uncle's faces flashed through her mind, then her aunts and cousins. She tried to imagine what might have happened if she'd ever been asked to kill them. The thought made her shudder in revulsion. She'd have killed anyone who suggested that, without question.

"Why?" she managed. It came out as a breathless croak.

Torian looked back. He'd already made it to the door, like he was assuming she could follow him now.

She would. She had to. No matter who he was and what he'd done, he still had Mako's cure in his veins.

That might be the only thing saving his life right now. As much as she hated the people who had hunted and killed her family, she'd never been more disgusted by anyone than she was by Torian Cadera right now.

"Have to go. Explain on the way."

"Explain now!" Aqura yelled, turning on him. "You did all this just to kill your own father in cold blood?!"

Torian's face was impassive, infuriatingly controlled, as he handed her Jicoln's holocommunicator.

"Call them. Should check Mako is alright." When she opened her mouth to protest, he shook the device and snapped, "I will explain myself on the way, Mandokarla."

Aqura reached up and took the comm. She would have torn it from the man's grasp out of sheer spite, but he let it go without any resistance.

Without even thinking, she input the comm code. Seconds later, Gault answered, looking relieved.

"Hey, there, kid. Thought you were- never mind. Mako's asleep. She's alright, but… you're on your way back, right?"

Aqura looked from Gault to Torian, then nodded.

"Good," Gault said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Hurry, alright? And try not to get in the Empire's way on the way in. We've got enough problems incoming. Most of them Imperial…"

He trailed off meaningfully and Aqura snapped out of her single-minded anger long enough to realize what he was implying.

"They're attacking the spaceport?"

"Well…" Gault said slowly. "Not _yet_. It wouldn't hurt to get here before they do, though. The doc doesn't want to move Mako right now."

"I thought you said she was alright!" Aqura cried, pushing past Torian and hurrying down the corridor towards the ship's exit.

"She is," Gault said, raising his hands defensively. "She'll be fine, I'm sure. Just get here fast, alright?"

Faster than they could manage walking or running. She turned to Torian. "Get me a track on a squad. Any squad-"

"S… sis?"

"Oh…" Gault said worriedly, turning to the side. "Sparks, come on. Lie down, kid."

He left the image for half a second and pulled back, holding Mako.

Aqura's heart skipped a beat.

Mako was not alright. She could barely stand and she looked pale even in the blue light of the comm.

"They need a speeder," Mako said, voice weak. Aqura prayed she was imagining the grey of the slicer's sweat-soaked face. "Got one on its way. Head north. Please… hurry..."

She lost consciousness then, slumping into Gault's arms as Doctor Cel's voice sounded from outside the image.

"Osik!" Aqura swore, clipping the comm to her belt and picking up her pace. Torian was trying to keep up, but he was slow. Beaten, bruised, and sick.

Served him right.

They came out of the ship and Aqura led the way north. It wasn't even a minute before the sound of a speeder could be heard in the distance, then it appeared on the horizon.

Almost without realizing, Aqura put on her helmet, then looked around.

"My blaster," she demanded. "Give it back."

Torian held it out to her, but even as Aqura looked at it, she couldn't bring herself to take it. It was stupid, sentimental nonsense, but he'd killed his father with that weapon. She'd dropped it and he'd killed his father with it.

With a sharp shake of her head, she just said, "never mind," and turned to the landing speeder.

She'd make do with her blades for now.

Two Republic soldiers were in the speeder, and one was standing up to get out when Aqura called out to them. Halfway out of the vehicle, he fumbled with a blaster rifle until both Mando'ade raised their hands.

"Udesii," Aqura called, "we're with you. Mandokarla and Torian… Cadera." She shot the man an acidic look under her helmet. "You were sent you to get us?"

The soldier in the pilot's seat nodded. "When the General himself sends the orders, doesn't matter who you're picking up, you hop to it, right? Get in, we've got to beat the Empire back to Olaris!"

Both Mando'ade jumped in the back and the speeder was in the air again in seconds.

In the back seat, Torian leaned over to Aqura, who leaned away.

Torian reached out and pulled Aqura closer. An instant later, he stopped still, Aqura's fist under his chin.

A twist of her wrist and she'd be delivering him to Mako as nothing more than a blood bag.

"Said I'd explain myself," he said.

"You're a cure for Mako now," Aqura said. "Nothing else."

The pair glared at each other for a few seconds, until Torian let go of her and Aqura let her arm drop.

"He asked me to kill him," Torian said.

She almost punched him right there.

"Cin Vhetin," he said. "New-fallen snow. My entire life, been haunted by my name. His name. Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la."

The last words Jicoln had said before his own son shot him: it doesn't matter who your father was, only the father you will be. A lie, obviously. Aqura and her cousins wouldn't have spent their lives fighting to survive if the Mando'ade actually believed that old saying.

"Not what my life has proven," Torian said. "Hunted and scorned, called aruetal. He knew. He… cared."

He choked, and Aqura turned to look at Torian. His expression was firm, but his voice came out husky and ragged.

"This was my only chance to make the Mando'ade forget, get my honour back, be part of a clan."

"You could have been part of my clan!" Aqura snapped. "I never cared about Jicoln, neither do Mako or Gault. We just wanted to be together!"

One of the troopers looked back. He didn't look like he could hear them over the wind, but he could probably tell Aqura was yelling.

"Wouldn't have been free." Torian shook his head regretfully. "Still hunted, shunned. Without honour or a place as a Mando'ad."

"I'd give that up in a second for family," Aqura shot back.

Torian nodded thoughtfully, eyes distant. "My family gave everything to give it back to me."

Aqura bit off a reply that couldn't ever have come out as anything more than a pained scream. She turned away, unable to think of anything to say, and the two rode in silence back to the space port.

He was right, was the worst part, and Aqura knew she'd have made the same choice as Jicoln, in his position.

She could only be grateful that her helmet hid her frustrated tears.

* * *

They came in under fire, the speeder dodging and weaving to avoid Imperial anti-air on the way down to the spaceport. It took a series of blasts from the base's anti-vehicle turrets before the attacks died down enough for them to fly straight in.

Both Mando'ade were out of the speeder almost as soon as it touched the ground, though Torian was less agile than usual. Without a word to the troopers, they ran for the building they'd only left the evening before.

Aqura hoped she was imagining the sky getting lighter over the blaster fire and explosions above.

She didn't quite kick down the door, but only because it was unlocked. Probably Gault's doing.

"Mako!" she shouted. "Gault!"

"Over here!"

They followed Gault's voice into the building until they found the room he, Mako, and Doctor Cel were in.

The building rumbled from the artillery barrage outside.

"Sit down," Aqura told Torian. She rounded on the scientist and started to give her orders, too, but then the Mando'ad saw her sister.

Mako looked terrible. She lay on the bed, unconscious. Her skin had started to go pale and was slick with sweat.

By the time Aqura had gathered herself again, Doctor Cel was already at work hooking Torian up to some sort of machine, and Gault was standing beside the huntress.

"She'll be-" Gault cut off as the room rumbled and Doctor Cel gave a quiet almost-curse as she fumbled with a needle. "... Alright."

"Not if the Imperials burn this place to the ground first," the doc interjected.

Gault looked to Aqura, clearly expecting her to head back out.

"I'm staying," Aqura said. Simple as that.

"The antibodies won't cultivate faster with you watching," Doctor Cel snapped. "We need everybody we can get just to slow down the Empire long enough to get this done. Not you, sweet-talker. You get the noble fool here some kolto. He looks about to faint and I need all the blood we can get to start."

Everybody was helping except for Aqura. It hurt, having to choose between being useless and leaving Mako's side, but inevitably the Mando'ad walked out of the room. Outside the building, she called to the first trooper she saw and got the man's sidearm. She was still low on fuel and ammunition, exhausted, and missing her grappling line entirely, but that really didn't matter right now. They needed another gun and she could provide it.

She followed some of the troopers to the wall and covered them while they manned an anti-infantry turret. It wasn't much, but the battlefield wasn't a place for a bounty hunter.

It was a short battle, breaking off less than twenty minutes later as the Imperials fell back to reform their lines or something. One of the troopers explained it, but Aqura wasn't listening. She was already heading back to Mako, ignoring the shouts of the Republic forces trying to re-establish a defensive foothold.

Not her problem and not her war.

The sky was getting lighter. That was her only concern.

Aqura crashed into the building and into Mako's room without a single word to anyone on her way.

There was Gault, at the door with his rifle ready. Mako was lying down in her bed, still asleep, still horribly sickly, with Doctor Cel putting a needle into her elbow. Torian had his armour and shirt off and was lying down on a stretcher beside Mako's bed.

"How long?" Aqura tried to keep the impatience from her voice, but it didn't feel like she quite succeeded.

Doctor Cel looked up at her, then very deliberately pressed a button on the machine she was standing beside. Fluid started flowing out of it and down the tube into Mako's arm. The moment the dark liquid reached the end, the doc said, "half an hour. If nothing goes wrong. I don't know, we had a Jedi every other time this happened."

"Well, as long as the Empire-" Gault cut off as a siren sounded, long and high, three times, then three times again. "Stars, are they back already?"

Doctor Cel shook her head and started fiddling with the medical table. "No. That's the evac order. All non-essential personnel are getting off-planet. That means us, unless you're not coming. We're going to need another stretcher."

Aqura stepped between the doctor and the back room.

"Mako's not going anywhere."

"We have to!" Doctor Cel protested, but Aqura cut her off.

"We have to make sure Mako gets better," Aqura said. "You said one day, maximum. That's all we have. It's been nineteen hours, almost twenty. The sun's rising. I'm not risking another minute."

"The Empire could be here any minute!" Cel protested, looking from Gault to Aqura, clearly hoping for some support. When Gault raised his hands helplessly, Cel begged, "we can't save her if we're a smoking crater!"

"There is a way we can prevent that," Gault suggested.

Both women looked at him, and he shrugged.

"Just let the Empire in. We make a deal, buy ourselves the time for Mako to get better, and walk out free sentients."

There was silence for a few heartbeats, then Aqura started nodding slowly.

"You- you can't-" Doctor Cel sputtered, "no! No, that's insane! That's horrible. You can't!"

Gault shrugged and Aqura grabbed Doctor Cel by the shoulder, pushing her down into a chair by the wall. Once the doctor was in her seat, Aqura popped both her vibroblades as fair warning, then reached for her - for Jicoln's - commlink.

"No…" Torian groaned.

For some reason, that gave Aqura pause. She actually looked over and saw the man for what felt like the first time since he'd killed his father. He was weak, barely mobile, and pale as death. It looked like the only things keeping him conscious were a kolto infusion and sheer _atin_.

"Your part is done, Torian Cadera," Aqura growled. "Take your father's sacrifice and be happy I let you live."

Gault made a quiet sound of surprise while Torian managed a glare at her. Aqura ignored both and opened a general Imperial channel on her commlink.

"Not what Mako would want," Torian said, before falling backwards onto his stretcher.

"WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT WHAT _MY_ SIS-"

Aqura cut off, eyes catching on the small girl's sleeping form.

He was right. Damn him, he was right. Mako wanted people to get what they deserved. Bad things should happen to bad people and good things should happen to people who did good things.

Doctor Cel was curing her with Torian's help. The Republic was sheltering them.

"Osik," said the hunter. "Gault, watch the doc. If it seems like she's not putting everything she can into saving Mako, you let her know. If Mako… if it goes wrong, Ianna's life depends on you convincing me she did everything she could. I'm going to go help with the evacuation. Doc, pray the Empire doesn't attack before Mako wakes up. You're staying here until she does. No matter what."

Again, she left the building, but this time not for the front lines. Instead, she turned around and headed for the port itself. Again, she grabbed the first trooper she found.

"How can I help?" she asked the soldier. "I've got powered armour and I've been part of a few evacuations."

The soldier stared for a second, then glanced at the building she'd come out of, before finally pointing over her shoulder. "You'll want to see the Sergeant. He's organizing us grunts."

The Sergeant was a little man standing on a box yelling at everybody in the area as they all carried boxes or escorted civilians back towards the spaceport. He barely saw her before pointing and yelling, "you, in the filthy armour! You been wrestling with a swamp?! Get some boxes loaded and stay away from the fine cutlery, got it?!"

Then he was looking at somebody else and yelling orders for them, too.

Thirty minutes. Less, now. At least, that was until the treatment was done. How long until Mako was on the mend? How long until she was better? Had Aqura jumped the gun telling the doc she couldn't leave until Mako woke up? What if Doctor Cel panicked and did something to hurt Mako?

Aqura put her back into the work. Back and forth from the ship to the supply dump, counting minutes down to when she could go check on Mako again.

That was all it was. Waiting, until the call went out across the base.

"All available hands to stations. Shuttles prepare for launch. Repeat, prepare for launch."

Aqura checked the time.

Twenty-three minutes. Faster than she would have guessed. Too soon for Mako. They wouldn't be evacuating on the shuttles, so neither would Doctor Cel.

Time to go deliver the bad news.

Aqura dropped off a box of medical supplies and left the soldiers finishing up their own jobs.

She ran. It drained her - Osik, she needed sleep - but she got back to Mako as fast as she could.

The building was emptier than before. Everybody had been moved back to the evac shuttles except for the few people in the back room.

Which, in this case, included Gault struggling with a very angry Doctor Cel.

"A little help?" he asked, then grunted as the doctor's elbow came up and hit him in the face.

Aqura reached out, grabbed Ianna's arm, and pulled it behind her back and up.

"What's going on here?" the warrior asked. She looked over at Mako, just to make sure everything was alright.

Mako looked better already. There was colour in her cheeks and she was breathing more easily than before.

"It's working, Doc," Aqura said with a sigh of relief. "Osik, we're not going to kill you if it works! We're not monsters, just… desperate."

She trailed off the last word, feeling ashamed and weak with relief.

Mako was going to be alright.

"The shuttles are leaving _now_ ," Doctor Cel shouted. "Let me go! The Empire could come down on us any minute!"

"I'm sorry," Aqura said, and meant it. "Not until I'm sure Mako is going to be alright. You're the only person with any experience with the plague-"

"And if I die, most of the research goes with me!"

"We're not letting that happen-"

Aqura cut off as the room shook.

"That wasn't artillery," she said slowly.

Then the artillery did hit, proving her right. The first explosion hadn't been artillery at all. It had come from above.

Another one shook the building and it sunk in.

"They're shooting down the shuttles."

Doctor Cel stopped struggling and Aqura let her go.

"Ne'kaan," Torian growled from his stretcher.

Aqura nodded. "They're killing the non-combatants."

Gault shrugged. "Typical Sith."

"New plan," Aqura decided. "As soon as Mako's awake, we get out of here, head for the ship, and get the Doctor somewhere safe. Any planet you want, doc."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Doctor Cel said. She was rubbing her shoulder and glaring at Aqura.

"Sorry," Aqura muttered. Then she stopped.

Mako shifted in her bed, then her eyes opened.

It took most of Aqura's willpower to keep from leaping on the girl as she looked around the room. Instead, the Mando'ad forced herself to gesture Doctor Cel forward to check on Mako.

"I feel terrible," Mako mumbled.

"Osik," Aqura breathed, kneeling down beside her sister while Doctor Cel did her medical fiddling. "You look great. I'm so glad you're alright."

The room rocked again, artillery, then another shuttle explosion.

"What was that?" Mako groaned.

"We're in the middle of another siege," Gault commented drily. "I seem to get into a lot of them now that I'm with you guys."

"Again?" Mako moaned. "Whyyyy…"

Aqura smiled. She couldn't help it. She'd be crying if she weren't standing beside a stranger listening to shuttles full of civilians getting shot down overhead. As it was, she managed a stifled laugh and sent her thanks out to whoever might be watching over them.

"Is Mako going to be alright, doc?" she asked.

"I don't know!" Cel snapped. "The Force is usually involved at this point. Just let me get a blood sample, alright? Then can I go free?"

"Osik, doc," Aqura said, fighting down a grin. "Finish that and I'll owe you one even after we get out of here."

Doctor Cel muttered something that didn't sound supportive, but that didn't matter.

Torian sat up on his stretcher and shifted himself to face Mako, though Cel shot him a glare when he looked about to pull out his kolto IV.

Mako reached out and took Aqura's hand, then snorted. "You're filthy," she laughed weakly. "Oh, wow, I have never felt this bad. This is like just before I passed out combined with that time Havoc Squad EMPed me and that one time on Nar Shadaa when I ate spoiled Kowakian Monkey-lizard meat. You should try it some time."

"Maybe we'll get Gault to try it," Aqura suggested. "I'd have to take off all this armour and that's a hassle."

Mako laughed and Gault muttered something pretending to be grumpy. Then the slicer turned to Torian.

"I guess you saved my life, big guy," she said. "Thanks. A lot. I sort of expected that from Aqura, but… thanks."

Torian nodded and looked away. "Took longer than it should have. Sorry."

"We took a detour to kill his father," Aqura added spitefully. Then, for some reason she couldn't even fathom, she regretted it. It was true, it was something he should never be allowed to forget, but it felt like the wrong time to bring it up, like this moment should have been free of that memory.

Torian winced and so did Mako.

"Oh, uh… Jicoln was your dad, then?"

Torian nodded.

Mako tried to catch Aqura's eyes, but it was predictably hard behind her helmet. Eventually, the slicer added, "well, you can't pick your family, right?"

Again, Torian nodded. Then his eyes flickered to Aqura, Gault, then back to Aqura before finally coming back to Mako. Aqura glared back at him, which didn't do much.

Mako took a deep breath. "Oh… You know, Tor, you look like somebody who needs a new start. I think you've earned chance with A- with us, if you want it."

Aqura's gaze snapped to the slicer, who was grinning much too broadly for somebody feeling so weak. She didn't mean-

"Cin Vhetin," Torian said quietly, not looking up.

"Yeah," Mako said, nodding as her eyes flickered. "New-fallen snow. I like that. Sounds better than last time I heard it."

And Torian, damn him, looked to Aqura.

The ground rumbled with artillery and Doctor Cel gave her the excuse of arriving with a datapad that she handed to Aqura, who looked at it for a second.

"I have no idea what this means, Doc."

"You don't need to," Doctor Cel said. "All you need to do is give that to any doctor you see after this if anything goes wrong. Your slicer's fine, as far as I can tell. You're not my problem anymore."

The building shook and Aqura nodded, clipping the datapad to her belt.

"Time to get out of here, then."

The huntress reached out, plucked her old blaster pistol from Torian's belt, and handed it to the doctor. "Take this. We'll get out of here before the Imperials overrun the place and get you safely off-planet." As she spoke, she wrapped Mako up in blankets and then picked the girl up.

"I already told you, I'm not going anywhere with you," Doctor Cel snapped.

Aqura thought for a second, then nodded. "Keep the blaster, anyway. It's good. Custom. If you make it through this, I'll owe you two."

The doc snorted and Mako walked past her, gesturing for Gault to follow.

"Aqura," Mako said. She was looking back.

Aqura turned to look.

Torian was still sitting there on his stretcher, looking lost.

"Sis," the girl said.

"Mako," Aqura whispered. "I can't…"

"Please. He saved my life."

Aqura was silent for a few long seconds. They all were. Doctor Cel glared at them, then slipped past and out the door. Gault watched the door, rifle ready. Mako just clung there in Aqura's arms.

Cin Vhetin. A tradition of a new start, a clean slate.

Clean of everything.

No matter what.

Torian sat there, unwilling to even look up. He looked like Aqura imagined she'd feel if Mako had been lost. How she'd felt when she lost Thaumas, Dar'vao, Denn, uncle Sherkan…

Cin Vhetin. Everything he'd done, for a new start.

He'd saved Mako.

"Tor!" Aqura shouted, far too loudly for the little room they were in, just loud enough to be heard over the rumble of the last artillery explosion.

He looked up.

"We're about to make a daring escape. Get your osikla rifle!"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **As much as it might surprise people, this is the end of Mandokarla for now. There will be a few more bits and pieces in "The Soldier and the Warrior" and eventually in an as-yet-unnamed short fic companion to "The Jedi Prisoner", but Legacy as a whole is going on hiatus as of today. Perhaps not completely out of production, but at least on the backburner. All my work on this fic and all my other SWTOR fics has been practice for a big fic I planned out three years ago that I finally feel it's time to go back to working on.**

 **While I know there won't be many people disappointed by this, for those who are, rest assured that Legacy isn't done. It may take quite a long time, but I've got story planned all the way up to the end of KotFE. Mandokarla and everyone else will be coming back. It's only a matter of time.**


End file.
